Skip to main content

Full text of "The Saturday Evening Post 1926-08-14: Vol 199 Iss 7"

See other formats 


THE SAZURDAY 
EVEN 


An I 
Founded 


aaa SORE 6 ior ce ere ore 
A ‘ 


Volume 199, Number 7 


AUGUST 14, 1926 | ee > 5c. THECOPY 


NNN 


mo, Sts -* , 
yw = om 4 
“PD 
Mary Roberts Rinehart— Ben Ames Williams— Isaac F. Marcosson—R.G. Kirk 
Charles BracKett— Richard Connell—George Weston—Octavus Roy Cohen 





rious 
of cans 


SIZES O 


e 


“Packed in va 


[ 
i 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


—Modern, non-skid highwaujs 
Jor quick, safe transportation 


The Company 


40 Rector St., New York City 


hi 


Delaware River Road, Pennsylvania State Highwa) 


No. 156, near Eastoi. 


Tarvia- 








ACTUAL VISITS 
TO P & G HOMES 


NG, 5 


She was a rosy-faced youngster of about 
four with a smudge on her nose. And 
she was sliding down her own front steps 
in a pair of blue and white 
rompers which looked immac- 
ulate—from the front. 

““Mother’s in the garden,” 
she said. 

So I went around to ask 
Mrs. Moore about laundry 
soap, just as I had asked a great 
many other women in that 
small Chicago suburb. I found 
her in the neatest of little gar- 
dens, gay with perennials. 

“What kind of laundry soap 
do I use?” she repeated with a 
surprised smile. “Well, recent- 
ly I’ve begun to use P and G, 
and I’m delighted with it. You 
see, I’m particular about 
Molly’s clothes—I wash them myself, 
so I wanted to find a soap which was 
quick without being harmful. 

“‘] put clean rompers on Molly every 
day of the week, but on Sunday she blos- 
soms out in real little girl clothes. You 
should see how proud she is of them! 


cAn ironing hint from Mrs. Moore 





‘*When I have to iron a dress with buttons I always fold a 
bath towel several times, place it under the buttons and iron 
the garment on the wrong side. This presses the buttons 
down inte the soft towel and irons the material around the 


buttons without any trouble."’ 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 
































Of course all this makes quite a lot of 
washing, but I find P and G a wonderful 
help. I do far less rubbing than I did be- 
fore and the clothes look nicer. 

“Colors, I find, stay beauti- 
fully clean and fresh—and my 
white clothes are really a joy! 
I rarely boil them, yet they 
are clean and white, and they 
smell sweet and fresh! It’s 
wonderful, too, to have a soap 
that you can use with hot or 
cold water. I use P and G for 
all my washing and cleaning— 
dishes, too.” 

No wonder that Mrs. 
Moore, and millions of other 
women who are careful of their 
clothes, like P & G. No 
wonder that P & G is the 
largest-selling laundry soap in 
America! Less work, less rubbing, less 
boiling! Fresh colors and sweet-smelling 
clothes whether you use hot, cold or 
lukewarm water. Don’t you think that 
P & G should be doing your washing 
and cleaning too? 

PROCTER & GAMBLE 


Jaturday -a tomboy in rompers, 
but you should see her on Sunday/ 












August 14,1926 































The largest-selling 
laundry soap in 
America— 
that is why it costs so little 
Compare P and G with the laundry 
soap you now use—price, weight, 


quality. Then you'll see P and G's 
astonishing value. 
















































Published Weekly George Horace Lorimer 
EDITOR 
The Curtis Publishing Frederich S. Bigelow. A.W. Neal 
Thomas B.Costain, Wesley» W. St 


" Company B.Y. Riddell, Thomas L. Masson 


ag ns ae 
Cyrus H.K. Curtis, President 
. C.H. Ludington, Vice-President and Treasurer —— - Ciece¥ — 
PS. Collins, General Business Manoger ; © Post Office P) ‘ 
A Wolter D. Fuller, Secretary Maret iS? N ‘ ‘ 


Williem Boyd, Advertising Director StI “ « ; ‘ ‘ 
Se .~ » ’ De “ ‘ ' c ‘ 
aastnceenlinins Sanne nomen Founded A’D' 1728 Ay Benj. Franklin Ripe caged Sota te 
. a! so* > ‘ | ‘ 
i e.Ny., Houston, Tex..Omahe. Net te 
London: 6, Henriette Street - ba BN ke Tied Pe al Z = ae : - weka - [ma ag tan ~patics r 1 pater oe ed 
4 opynghnt, 2 »> 1¢ urtis shing Company in the nit tates and Great r 1 egistered inl ‘ ote - aa 
eee fetehaeuishin PerckgnCanmtcias. Gatered 0c Sorend-Cieen Metres Gus find Elion Siguntgnet news Cos Me.. Los Angeles, ¢ v 








Volume 199 Sc. THE Copy PHILADELPHIA, PA., AUGUST 14, 1926 $2.00 THE YeaR Number 7 


by Subscription 





Ta&@ GRAY GOOSE 


Al Tish ies a ey Roberts Rinehart 


FrELUSTRATE DO ARTH VU wWwrtreieriAaAm BROWWN 


N ORDER to understand the case of Emmie Hartford and the rather drastic method of men digging frantically in the cellar of the Hartford house just beneath the room ir 

by which our splendid Tish endeavored to effect a cure, it is necessary to go back which we waited. But that is the way it began. 
a few months to that strange but brief period during which Letitia Carberry It was last Christmas that Charlie Sands, Tish's nephew, sent her a book on palmistry 
developed psychic power. Tish studied it carefully, and for some time Aggie and I, and even Hannah, her maid 
Not, indeed, that she used her power in the case referred to; on the contrary, rather. were obliged to make impressions of our hands on a sheet of smoked paper while 7 
But the influence of her earlier experiences is plainly to be discovered by the careful studied the results. Aggie, I recall, had a line down near her wrist which worried T 
reader, and since she has been severely criticized for her attitude to Emmie, as well asfor greatly, revealing as it did an unbridled and passionate nature, although Aggie was 


the methods she pursued, it is only fair to her to revert briefly to the incidents which _ certain that it was where she had been cut while paring quinces some years ago. And 
preceded the Hartford affair. Hannah certainly had the circle which indicated death by drowning. But what is 

It is, I admit, a long step from a book on palmistry to that frightful evening when important to this narrative is that our dear Tish discovered that she herself had the 
Aggie and I were compelled to sit under the eyes of a policeman and listen to anumber _ psychic cross on both hands. 

She at once undertook a study of such matters, although at first her attitude wa 
largely one of academic interest, she having always stoutly maintained that under no 
circumstances, once having passed over, would she care to be brought back and forced 
. to inhabit even temporarily the body of a medium she might not care for or might 
a indeed positively dislike. 


} And, I may say, her interest was largely impersonal until well on into the 


be spring. Then one night she had a most curious experience, and there began that 

ft earnest investigation which was to lead us into such strange paths, and was later, 
; . , 

hoes indeed, to see us driven from the Hartford home under conditions so unpleasant 


that only a sense of fairness to Tish compels me to record them. 
Briefly, then, Tish was reading one evening 
in the living room of her apartment, while 
‘Qo one’ Hannah in the kitchen was cutting out a 
nightgown from a paper pattern. There was 
only the light from the reading lamp, an 
auspicious fact, since we have since learned 
how fatal is light to these deli- 
cate phenomena, and it so hap- 
pened that there was on the 


f 


table beside her a vase of flowers 





















and also a pitcher of drinking 
water. Since both water and 
flowers greatly assist in psychi 
manifestations, it will 
be readily seen that, 
without Tish knowing 
it, the stage was al- 
ready set for the 
drama which ensued. 

iddenly she heard 
a faint rustling, and 
on glancing up there 
was the sleeve patter 
f Hannah’s night- 
wn moving across 
the doorsill and into 
the room! 


It is unfortu 















that, in her si 
she dropped her bool 
and thus broke the 
ectoplasmic force, or 
whatever It may be 


aper 


‘Some People are Idiots,"’ 





Tish Gave Him a Terrible Stare, and Then She Used an Expression I Had Never Before Heard From Her Lips. 


) 












‘She's Gone!"' He Yelled. 


one experiment, we persuaded Hannah to join us, with 
results so startling that neither she nor Aggie sat again. 
But even these early sittings brought surprising results. | 
quote a few extracts from Tish’s record, made each eve- 
ning after the event, and thus as correct as possible: 

At one A.M. last night we secured heavy raps on the wall next 
to the Ingersoll apartment, distinctly audible over the sound of 
the phonograph. 

By an unmistakable affirmative in the usual code of raps for 
yes and no, Mr. Wiggins tonight told Aggie he had desired her 
to have his cameo scarf pin, and not his sister, who has it. 

Cc. S.—Chariie Sands—sat with us tonight. Vase of flowers 
and bow! of water on floor. He requested that the spirits place 
something in the bowl of water, and since it was Friday, sug- 
gested fish. In thirty seconds we heard a loud plop, and found 
on turning on the light that a goldfish was swimming in the bowl. 

Brief as they are, these few extracts prove conclusively 
that we were securing results. Already, a purely amateur 
cirele as we were, we had succeeded in securing a material- 
ized form. More than that, the fish remained some days, 
in every way acting like a real fish, even eating the food we 
placed in the bowl. Indeed, it was only to leave us later 
on under circumstances as amazing as those of its arrival. 

It will be seen, then, that we were slowly but definitely 
progressing, although small setbacks and annoyances 
came our way also. Hannah, for instance, became so 
nervous that she constantly threatened to leave, and on a 
storm coming up one night and Tish going into her room in 
her nightdress to see if the window was closed, was only in 
time to catch her before she leaped out of the window! 

But in the main we were satisfied. True, our one at- 
tempt to utilize a trumpet medium, strongly recommended 
by Mrs. Ostermaier us having predicted Willie’s measles, 
was most unfortunate. We had invited Charlie Sands to 
sit with us, and the early performance was most surprising. 
Mr. Abraham, the medium, went into a deep trance and 
the trumpet which had been placed on the floor moved 
about and touched us all. Not only that, but it hovered in 
the air in front of Charlie Sands, and after a number of 
,kissing sounds, a young woman who said her name was 
Katie and that she used to know him, asked him to go toa 
private sitting at Mr. Abraham’s, because she didn’t want 
to make any trouble for him by talking there. 

“That’s right, Katie,”’ he said. ‘“‘I don’t seem to re- 
member you, but be discreet anyhow. And you might pass 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





ena, 





2 etme & 


“You've Lied to Me! She's Dead! Oh, My Poor Emmie, and I Left You to Die Alone!"’ 


that word along over there, because a lot of folks could 
come back and make trouble here if they wanted to.” 

Well, she agreed to that and was just sending another 
kiss to him through the trumpet, when she sneezed twice. 
Tish thought it was Aggie, but it was not. And while this 
was being argued the medium in his chair suddenly gave a 
terrific yelp. 

“‘T’ve been injured!’’ he shouted. ‘“‘Somebody’s played 
a trick on me! I’m damaged! I’m hurt!” 

Well, Aggie turned on the lamp, and Mr. Abraham was 
on his feet, making dreadful faces and pulling at the seat 
of his trousers. Somebody had put a tack with the point 
upright on his chair, and he must have been standing up, 
for he had sat down on it. He was very much upset, and 
left without waiting to collect his fee at all. 

It turned out that Charlie Sands had suspected him 
right along, and had blown some snuff into the trumpet 
when he was talking to Katie. It was he, also, who had 
placed the tack on the chair. 

A weaker spirit than Letitia Carberry might have been 
discouraged, but Tish was not daunted; and, although our 
next sitting was the last we held, since neither Aggie nor 
Hannah would so much as venture into a dark room after 
it, it was so conclusive that it left no room for doubt. 

To be brief, Tish had always felt that in materializing a 
goldfish we had done well, but not sufficiently well. 

‘“‘A fish,” she said, “is a lower earth form. It is soulless 
and purely material, for there is no record of water in the 
higher planes of existence, since in the spirit we neither 
thirst nor bathe. We must do better than that.”’ 

As a result of this resolution we were, as I have said, 
compelled to give up our sittings entirely; but not before 
we had had a success beyond our wildest hopes. 

On the night in question, then, we had coaxed Hannah 
to sit Once more, and in a very few minutes we heard un- 
deniable sounds from the neighborhood of the open win- 
dow. ‘As it was entirely dark we could see nothing, but 
after a short time Hannah yelled in a terrified voice that 
something was rubbing against her. 

“Hush!” said Tish quietly. ‘If it is a spirit form it is 
welcome. Welcome, friend.” 

“It’s scratching my leg!”’ said Hannah in a dreadful 
tone, 


She then let out a bloodcurdling yell and the next in- 
stant the spirit form had leaped to Aggie’s shoulder, and 
she fell from her chair in a dead faint. We were obliged to 
turn on the light, but it was a long time before she could do 
more than moan. Naturally the force was entirely dissi- 
pated by that time; but Hannah was able to show two 
long scratches on her leg as evidence, and Aggie’s shoulder 
revealed three or four minute punctures entirely through 
the skin. 

A careful examination of the room also revealed a star- 
tling fact. The goldfish had disappeared from its bow]! 

It was, indeed, a retnarkable achievement, marking as it 
did our advance from the piscatorial to the animal plane, 
and indicating that we might even hope before long for the 
materialized human body. But, alas for Tish’s hopes, 
neither Aggie nor Hannah would sit again. So under- 
mined, indeed, was Hannah's morale by the incident that 
she gave us a considerable fright only a few days later. 

Tish was experimenting with automatic writing at the 
time, and had already secured a curious result. Her hand 
had drawn first a series of straight horizontal lines and 
then crossed them with a similar number of vertical ones, 
resulting in numerous small squares. Then, moving on 
inexorably, it had just written beneath: ‘‘Number one 
horizontal,’’ when we heard a terrific shriek from Hannah's 
room, followed by another and another. 

The power, of course, was broken, and, on rushing to 
Hannah’s assistance, we found that she had heard strange 
movements and sounds from her closet and was convinced 
that there was a spirit there. It turned out, however, to be 
only the Ingersolls’ cat; a troublesome animal which had 
crawled in over the fire escape and was playing with a 
mouse it had captured. 

But this practicaliy ended our experiments in that direc- 
tion. As Tish so justly observed, the craven heart has no 
place in the spirit world. I have related it, however, be- 
cause indirectly but surely it had its influence in the 
Hartford matter. 

mu 

T WAS just after all this that Aggie’s cousin Will Hart- 

ford came to see her and to ask her to indorse a note for 
five hundred dollars. We were all struck by the change in 
him; he used to be a nice-looking man, rather fastidious 


August 14,1926 


— 


——— 













| 
| 
\ 


a ed 


—S 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


about his clothes, but he looked thin and had a bad color 
that day, and as shabby as a person could be and go about. 

Aggie was so sorry for him that she would have done 
what he asked, but Tish at once advised against it 

‘“‘Lending money to relatives is like lending seed to a 
canary bird,” she said. ‘‘ You get paid only in song, and 
some of them can't sing. What's the matter, anyhow, 
Will?”’ she demanded, gazing at him with her usual 
searching glance. “‘ You earn a good salary. You oughtn't 
to be borrowing seed—I mean money.” 

“Well,” he said, “*‘ Emmie’s kind of frail. She has been 
most ever since I married her. It’s mostly a matter of 
doctors and nurses.” 

“Frail, how?” said Tish sharply. ‘ Morally or physi- 
cally? She used to be all right. I can remember when she 
ate three eggs for breakfast and was out in the pantry at 
eleven o'clock for a glass of milk.” 

He looked pained 

“She doesn’t eat now at all, Letitia,”’ he said sadly. 
“She feeds most everything that goes up on her tray to the 
dog. I don’t know how she lives on what she eats.” 

Well, poor Will’s story was certainly a sad one. About 
ten years ago Emmie had been taken sick. Fainted. And 
from that time on she’d just been up and down. Once 
they had thought it was a dropped stomach, and about 
the time she was all strapped up for that along came a new 
doctor and located something in her gall bladder. Her 
kidneys were wrong, too, and they’d got a new specialist 
lately who was laying the trouble to the thyroid gland. 

‘“*She’s had so many hypodermics that her poor skin is 
full of holes,’”’ he told us. ‘I guess they’ve used about a 
hundred needles on her.”’ 

“It’s a pity somebody wouldn’t use a needle on you,” 
said Tish sharply, looking at a hole in his sock. 

But he only put his foot under his chair and went on 
about his troubles. 

‘“*T don’t like asking for help,”’ he said, ‘“‘but every time I 
get a little money it goes to doctors and nurses. I’ve paid 
a nurse forty dollars a week for seven years and I’ve been 
needing a new suit for the last six of them. And we can’t 
keep help. There’s nobody there now but the nurse. 
Seems as though the feebler Emmie gets the worse they 
treat her.”’ 

Well, he looked so forlorn that Tish sent Aggie out for 
some blackberry cordial. 


s 


* 


“Is she in bed all the time?”’ she asked 

“She’s up and down. I carry her down to the living 
room once in a while, but I can’t do it often. I'm not so 
strong as I used to be.” 

“Still, as thin as she must be 

“Well, she isn’t exactly thin,”’ he said in an embarrassed 
manner. “It’s a funny thing, but she’s put on weight. Of 
course, weight itself may be a disease. I guess it is with 
her, anyhow.” 

Tish glanced at him, but he was drinking his blackberry 
cordial and didn’t notice it. He was certainly shabby, and 
his face had sort of fallen in 

“What's the matter with your teeth?” Tish said sud- 
denly. 

“I’ve lost one or two of them,” he admitted. “I haven't 
liked to take the time away from her to get them looked at. 
You see’’—he looked away from us, out of the window 
**you see, I may not have her long. I don’t want ever to 
feel that I—that I failed her in any way.’ 

“It’s a pity it isn't Emmie who's lost her teeth, and not 
you,”’ said Tish. ‘“‘Since she doesn’t need them and you 
do.”’ 

But he looked pained at that; so she told him she would 
think things over and let him know what Aggie would do, 
and he went away. On his way out Tish asked him sud- 
denly what sort of a dog they had, and he seemed sur- 
prised. 

“It’s a Pekingese,’’ he said, and went out with his shoul- 
ders bent, like an old man. 

After he had gone Aggie told us more about Emmie. 
She said it was a great pity about her, not forty yet and on 
her deathbed, but that that sort of weakness ran in the 
family. 

“Her mother was delicate, too,"’ she said. ‘‘ For twenty- 
five years she never came downstairs. Her mother carried 
up every bite of food she ate.”’ 

“‘What happened to her then?”’ Tish put in, rousing 
herself. ‘‘ Did she die?” 

“‘No, but her mother did,” Aggie said. 

‘*And then who carried the tray?” 

“Well, she began to get better about that time, and she 
lived to be eighty. She would be living now, poor soul, but 
she got on a chair one night to reach a piece of pie that 
somebody had hidden in the pantry, and she fell off and 
broke her neck.” 











Tish seemed very t ightful as she we k to her 
apartment. She told Aggie not to do anyt g jt the 
note for atime; that she would go and think over the situa- 


tion. It was that night that she called me up and asked m« 
how large a Pekingese dog was, and I| told her the one my 


niece, Lily May Carter, had, weighed about sever 


**You're sure of that, are you?”’ she inquired 
the size of a police dog or a mastiff 
“Not unless it’s grown considerably since I saw 


assured her 

“Then,” she said, “I fancy things at Will Hartford's are 
in a very bad way. We'd better go there, Lizzie 

“Do you think that Emmie’s going to die, Tist 

“*I do, indeed,” said Tish dryly. ‘At eighty or ninety 
if I can restrain myself so long, she will pass on. But Will 
Hartford is in a bad way. And so, I sh« ; 
added cryptically, “is the Pekingese dog 

We left two days later to see Emmie. It suited none of 








meeting at 


us to go. It was almost time for the annual 
the church, where we invariably serve the supper. Also 
Aggie was having an early attack of hay fever, which the 
dust of the motor trip did nothing to allay. All in ail, only 
a strong sense of duty took us, a genuine spirit of self 
sacrifice; and when I think of that last evening there, with 
the house full of doctors and policemen, I cannot restrain 
a certain sense of bitterness 

We acted entirely for the best. If the results were not 
what we anticipated, surely the fault is not ours. And 
how true, indeed, are these lines, secured only the other 
day by Tish through the medium of automatic writing: 

There swims no goose so gray but soon or late 
She finds some honest gander for her w 
mi 

T WAS the night before our departure that Tish and I 

sat together for advice on the situation, Aggie definitely 
refusing to join us. 

We got rather feeble results, as the power was evidently 
low; but on her asking if we should go to the Hartfords’, 
the table very clearly rapped ‘‘ Yes.” Whether, after I 
had gone, Tish received further instructions or not I do 
not know, but I am inclined to think she did. For one 
reason, I doubt if the idea of breaking a spring in her car 
and thus prolonging our stay there originated with her 
She is very fond of her car 


Continued on Page 79 








‘‘There Has Never Been Any Other Woman in My Life, Emmie,’’ He Toid Her. “I've Never Had Any Time for That Sort of Thing, and You Know It’’ 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 








August 14,1926 


| HARVEST OF THE YEARS 


A few months before his 


death Luther Burbank, then 
at the height of his powers 
and in the midst of experi- 
ments as numerous and im- 


now the keen sweetness 
of the air on sharp morn- 


By Luther Burbank, With Wilbur Tle — ro.,1 car rmenve 





portant as any conducted 
during his long and active 
career, expressed a desire to 
set down some of his obser- 
vations of life and men from 
his viewpoint as a naturalist 
and humanist. This work, 
entered on with enthusiasm, 

on developed a review of 
the methods and discoveries 
Mr. Burbank had employed 
in training plants to work 
for men, and its scope broead- 
ened. While always reflec- 
tive and, in a sense, remi- 
niseent, it began to bring 
out the story of his own 
mental growth and _ his 
unique experiences as a col- 
laborator with Nature. The 
project went forward rap- 
idly and in substance was in 
order for publication when 
he was suddenly taken ill, 
March 24, 1926. 

Although from the begin- 
ning he was very sick, Mr. 
Burbank spoke more than 
once of this series of arti- 
cles, and it was his wish, 
conveyed through Mrs. Bur- 
bank, that they be com- 
pleted according to the plan 
he had outlined. After his 
death what remained to be 
done was done under Mrs. 
Burbank’'s personal super- 
vision; the result is an in- 
timate and informal nar- 
rative that gives, clearly, a 
picture of the great nat- 








uralist’s mind and life. It ae ee ae 
is significant that the story 
can now be rounded out 
with the very last words he 
wrote and spoke, at the end of a life of seventy-seven years, 
every hour of which was crowded with vital contacts with men, 
events, and the vegetable world in which he made himself at once 
reverent pupil and unrivaled master. —W.H. 

The naturalist’s first question —however learnedly he may 
phrase it —is one of the child's first questions, asked long before 
it can speak: ‘‘ What is this?”’ But close upon the first 
arises a second: ‘‘How does it work?"’—J. ARTHUR THOMSON. 

ACK of every plant, every shellfish, every burrowing 

rodent or ravaging animal, and back of every 

human being, there stretches an illimitable and 
mysterious heredity, about the nature of which, and con- 
cerning the influence of which on the individual, scientists 
and the wise men spend their lives in research and specu- 
lation and conclusions. Little as we know of this subject, 
we have pretty generally agreed that the newborn child has 
a heritage of tendencies and inclinations which furnish the 
foundation or groundwork upon which he must build his 
house of life. 

But it is only the foundation, I think; the superstructure 
is built by environment. Heredity is the shape of the 
edifice, its position on the ground, whether a hillside or a 
plain, a rugged rock or a piece of shifting sand; environ- 
ment is the architect of the structure. Probably I have 
used that word “environment” more often than any other 
man that ever lived; if I seem to put stress on it, as these 
papers grow, it is because seventy years of interest in plant 
life and of wholesale experimentation to discover, test, 
practice, and then codify the laws underlying that life, 
have compelled me to the belief that environment is the 
great molding force behind the steady upward progress of 
the universe. 


A Good Place in Which to be Born 


NV Y OWN heredity gave me a ground plan for my life 
7 that called for an edifice sturdily built on the rock of 
knowledge and fact, and yet that was plastic enough to 
enable me to use a front elevation strangely like a house 
of dreams—a veritable castle in Spain. Behind me were 
hard-headed practicality, shrewd Yankee thrift and an 
insistence on an exact basis for reasoning and planning. At 
the same time there came to me, in vein and nerve system 
and brain cell, the imagination, the tendency to dream 
dreams, and the instinct to create, that impelled me to 
invention, to inquiry, to the visioning of ideals that could 
be attained somchow, no matter how bold or foolhardy 


the project seemed to others. 


Mt. Wachusett From Whittemore Hill, Mr. Burbank's Favorite 
Landscape. At Right—A Recent Photograph of Mr. Burbank 












My father, Samuel Walton 
Burbank, was a New Eng- 
lander of pure and unmixed 
physical strain, but it was 
not the shallow soil, the 
rocky structure below, the 
hardness of labor, the rigor 
of the winters, and the 
austerity of the people 
about him that he saw; 
he was a man of imagina- \ 
tion and a facile mind, \ 
and he glimpsed beauty 
and the sunshine and the 
pleasantness of the land in 
its garments of spring and 
autumn and was influenced 
by them. My mother was 
shrewd and practical, of a nerv- 
ous temperament, quick and im- 
pulsive, yet kindly, intelligent and 
with a great love of her garden. She 
had an unusual bent for making things 


grow, whether from domesticated seeds or PubTO BY J. fart 


from bulbs or cuttings or roots found in 

the woods all about; one of my earliest recollections is of 
the beauty and peace and fragrance of that old-fashioned 
garden of hers. 

My birthplace was the brick house on the Burbank farm 
in Lancaster Township, near Boston, Massachusetts; I 
cannot but believe that the farm’s diversified nature and 
activities were strongly influential on my life. The farm 
work, the pottery kiln my father built and that led him to 
the foundation of a brickyard, the woodlots from which 
were taken the fuel supplies for house and kilns, the gar- 
dens, berry patches, the sugar bush, and other activities 
not only kept a small boy busy but kept him interested, 
since there was never any long stretch of monotonous 
work—that murderer of enthusiasm and destroyer of the 
sheer fun of labor! 

Near by and all around us were manufacturing plants of 
the most diverse kinds, where, at that time, something of 
almost every fabricated article used in growing America 
was made. 

Physically, too, the old Lancaster farm was a broad 
education to a boy full of curiosity and keen to put his nose 
into all sorts of businesses and natural wonders. Massa- 
chusetts was—and is still!—a good place in which to be 


SAN FRAN AL. 


ings, the sun on snow or 
on green carpets of grass 
on the rolling land, run- 
ning up sharply, here and 
there, to hills where the 
ribs of the earth were 
revealed in rugged out- 
croppings of rock; I can 
hear the scoldings and 
makings-up of birds, the 
sharp crack of ice on a 
near-by pond, the croak 
of frogs in the odorous 
evening, and the welcome 
sound of a shrill voice 
calling me to supper. 


Rugged Beauty 


EW ENGLAND has 
something all its 
own—an atmosphere of 
rugged beauty, of kindli- 
ness hidden behind a 
brusque manner—that 
its people absorbed from 
the land. It is a coun- 
try full of surprises and 
discoveries—lost ponds, 
unexpected vistas, hid- 
den vales, villages cupped 
in unlooked-for hollows, 
unanticipated, breathless 
sights of the distant sea! 
I do not think I was more sen- 
sitive to beauty than all the 
others, but perhaps I ex- 
claimed about it more. It 
never failed me. And it 
never failed to excite and 
stimulate me. 
Physically, I say, our 
Lancaster Township was 
a splendid opportunity 
for an inquisitive boy. 
Within a day’s travel | 
found and studied a great 
part of the geographical 
forms that mark the fas- 
cinating surface of the 
earth. It was not from 
books that I learned what a 
cape may be, a promontory, 
a table-land, a mountain, an 
inlet, a river, a marsh, a bay, 
an ocean, or an island. Thoreau 
was celebrating at that time the 
majesty of the New England moun- 
tains that were not far from us, and the 
more level lands were a source of inspira- 
tion and delight to me. I might add that 
the variousness of natural things in New England extended 
to the weather, but if I said that, my New England friends 
would charge me with being a Californian now, and prej- 
udiced. 
As a child, my mother and sister told me long afterward, 
I was always a lover of flowers. I don’t know whether it 
was the bright color or the perfume or the texture, or all 
three, because I certainly don’t believe that I was a child 
prodigy or a naturalist in my cradle, but certainly I have 
been told anecdotes enough of myself to show that I could 
be kept quiet and happy if I had a flower to hold and ad- 
mire. This instinct, or passion, or preference continued 
after I grew old enough to choose my own activities, but I 
was a fairly healthy, normal boy, I guess, and I can well 
imagine that flowers appealed to me in inverse proportion 
to the amount of time I had to spend hoeing them or fer- 
tilizing the ground or digging up bulbs in the fall. I cannot 
remember that I was more interested in flowers or, indeed, 
in plant life, than I was in everything else about me. To 
the contrary, I am sure that it was life that absorbed my 
attention. I had no early tendency toward science, but I 
had a consuming curiosity, an inquisitiveness, about life 
forces and the processes and miracles of Nature. 





oat — 


ee 

























ee 


i 





One incident, written clearly on the tablets of my mem- 
ory, concerns a winter-day discovery that gave me a great 
deal to think about. I was heartily tired of winter, I re- 
member, as a growing boy in New England was likely to 
become, and was walking in the timber piece, perhaps 
moodily, and maybe kicking up the snow and calling it 
names, and perhaps punished for my petulance by stub- 
bing my rebellious toe against a hard-hearted old New 
England rock, when suddenly I saw a green place ahead of 
me. I could not believe my eyes. There were tall grass, 
bright, fresh, springlike shrubs and vivid vines, and on it 
all played sunshine almost tropical in its white intensity. 

I am sure I must have hurried forward, forgetting my 
rebel mood, to find that this was all real—a sort of winter 
oasis of green in a world of monotonous white. It took me 
some time to make out that there rose here one of those 
marvelous springs sometimes found in wintry countries 
that brought to the surface enough heat so that no snow 

ould remain on it, and so that vegetable life could get a 
foothold and maintain itself in the bitterest weather. 

I studied the phenomenon intently. Very dimly there 
hegan to grow in my mind vague questions as to how these 
plants and grasses and vines, their neighbors and cousins 
and brothers all dead and withered under the snow, or else 
dormant and waiting for spring, could adjust themselves 
to this summer-in-winter environment. Why, I asked, 
didn't they follow the traditions of their families and die 
with the fall, or droop and shed their leaves and hibernate, 
no matter what the warm water brought to them in the 
way of a miracle of equable temperature? Certainly the 
lycopodiums, the beautiful trailing partridge berry, the 
sedges and grasses, and here and there an early sprouting 
buttercup, should have known better, the way they had 
been raised, and with their decent seven-months-of-summer 
ancestry behind them, than to flaunt themselves so shame- 
lessly in this unfilial winter blooming! 


Factors That Led to My Career 


AM SURE now that my first thoughts—very dim and 

vague, as I say, and only a boy’s surface wonder, instead 
of a scientific hypothesis—concerning the power of he- 
redity in the miracles of plant variations came to me in that 
hour. It was late when I started home, and I could hardly 
wait to get there to tell the folks what I had found. To 
them it was no miracle; they saw in it no half-revealed 
secret stolen from Mother Nature’s cupboard of marvels; 
but to me it was the most wonderful thing that had ever 
happened. It turned me to watching and studying and 
comparing, and when the influence of an older mind, 
trained in the processes of Nature, fell on me I was wide- 
awake to make the most of the opportunity. 

This older mind that exerted itself strongly in shaping 
mine was that of my father’s nephew, Levi Sumner Bur- 
bank, a man who had been well educated, who had a bent 
for the natural sciences, and who certainly had a remark- 
ible power of exposition and explanation, so that what he 
talked about was alive and exciting and never dull and 
tedious. Cousin Levi had been a professor in Paducah 
College, and had read more books and understood them 
better than anyone else I knew. My own father was well- 
read and my mother was versed in a simple knowledge of 
things, but Levi Burbank had matters at his fingers’ ends 
and could talk of them fluently. He was interested in 
Nature and her processes and he knew enough of such laws 
and speculations as men had then formulated to open 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


many doors for an avid boy. It was he, I think, who may 
have crystallized my formless thinking and shaped m 
vague theories until he had made me want to know 
second-hand, but first-hand, from Nature herself, what the 
rules of this exciting game of life wers 

These, I am sure, were the factors that led me to my 
career. My heredity gave me the basic plan for my build- 
ing; the environment of 
that New England farm 








and the influence chiefly ' 
of my Cousin Levi showed we 
 ° 
me early something of the (4 
form the edifice was to 
%. 
take. 


Afterward I had the 
beginnings of education 
along many lines, but in 
my formative years | 
was moved only by en- 
thusiasm, a love of Na- 
ture, a great and insatia- 
ble curiosity, and a high 
regard for facts as against 
theories. When I began 
to work I had no elab- 
orate equipment. I hada 
garden patch; I had no 2 
microscope and Gray's 
Botany; I had a hoe and 
a pair of overalls; I had 
no fixed and_ inflexible 
scientific education; I had 
a voracious appetite for 
knowledge. I have stud- 
ied and experi- 
mented with 
plant life for al- 
most seventy 
years since then; 
Ihave watched 
men and their 
motives and 
movements with 
interest and cu- 
riosity; I have 
regarded the 
progress of the 
world and what 
we call civiliza- 
tion; I have tried 
to look beyond 
war for its causes, 
beyond poverty 
for its economic 
germ, beyond ig- 


























PIED FROM A MINIATURE TINTYPE BY #5. LAWTON 


norance for the 
sapping parasite 
from which it 
grows in the human mind, beyond bigotry and supersti 
tion for the human weakness and fear that breed them. I 
have wondered and questioned and experimented and 
observed, from the beginning until today, with no more 
equipment than the mind of one inquisitive and a lover of 
life, and now I look back down the years and try to set 
forth here something of what I have observed in all this 
time. 


Luther Burbank at the Age of 
Sixteen 





I had a taste for drawing, and for atime | ed 
irt serious I had good ir Ward t 
ractice of medicine and I took up that tr g nere wa 
every opport ty f me tog to manu g, ar I 
went to wor nata r i for ma r ‘ 
that I had, perhaps indr g re. Myen rye 
felt this even more strong than | par 
cause ) 
‘ T ry ‘ 
T et ‘ ‘ 
| } es v Ij 
nte ere adopted ar 
“ ry ‘ ‘ ‘ 4 
ms te 
——— Call of the Land 
‘s) 
] WA t I 
* ava T ray 
= “ her wage 
ere } oT “ ‘ 
g! “ resu oon 
™ daptabilit Bree 
er é " lL pe 
sessed u without 7 
peing fu iware O 
N re was caliing met 
the land, and when thers 
ily I my share 
IT f r modest est 
| ould 1 ger resist 
, the ¢a 
14 
Pe H In Lunenburg Town 
3 hif t far from Lan- 
caste I ind seventeer 
acre f unusually es 
that wa sale. On the 
place was a good old house 
and, although some of my 
friends tried to dissuad 
PHOTO. BY H.W EASON, 8 me,and the menatthefac 
The Lane Approaching the tory told me I was mak 
Burbank Place. The Apple . iar 
Trees Were Planted by Mr. . m 1 bought 
Burbank's Mother this prope ind set 7 
f Vi a market ga 
dener. It was my notion that the garden would pay 
its own way and leave me not only a field for experi- 
ment but the means with which to work Oddly 
enough, it was not my instinctive desire to investi- 
gate the laws of the plant world, but a d necessity 
which pitched me, as we say, “neck and crop” into 
plant experimentation 
Immediately I began this vocation of mine I learned 
what all of us have to learn who enter the sober busi- 


ness of life, namely, that I had not been the first to 
think of raising produce for the market In short, 


I found myself in active competition with well 
established and experienced market gardeners; of course, 
I learned all the tricks of the trade as regard ld frames, 
hotheds, the use of glass and fertilizer, and the cultivation 
of the soil, but my competitors knew these secrets and 
used them better, probably from years of experience, thar 


could I, a mere youngster. This competition made me a 
serious sti:dent of the method 





which Nature produced 


Continued on Page 126 





he 




















The House on the Seventeen Acres in Lunenburg Township on Which Mr. Burbank Produced the Burbank Potato in 1872. At the Right, His Birthplace 
















THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





August 14,1926 


SHEIK’S CLOTHING 


ILLUSTRATED 





EG BROWN was really in no frame of mind to enjoy 
the afternoon off which was given everybody in 
the offices of Chapin, Howard and Higginbotham 

out of respect for Olin T. Chapin, the senior partner, aged 

eighty-seven, who was being buried at four o’clock. It 
was not grief for Mr. Chapin, whom he had never seen— 

Mr. Chapin had been taking things easy since 1899 

which weighed on his spirit, however, but the memory of 

his recent interview with the mother of Elinor Dana. 

“But, my dear Reg,” Mrs. Dana had said to him in her 
limpid, beautiful voice which, at the moment, somehow 
suggested that it was very near the rippling indiscretion 
of a giggle. “My very dear Reg, adorable as you are, 
you're a perfect baby.” 

“‘I don’t see how you can say that, Mrs. Dana,’”’ Reg 
protested. ‘I graduated from college last year.” 

“Did you?” 

“‘And I was voted the man in my class most likely to 
succeed.’ 

“ Reaily?’ 

“Well, I know that’s no guaranty, but it means some- 
thing when the men you've been with for four years think 
that of you.” 

“The men?” Mrs. Dana echoed. “Don’t you realize, 
Reg dear, that your college is just a bassinet; a great, beau- 
tiful, green bassinet for hundreds of lovely male babies?”’ 

‘Elinor doesn’t think I’m so young.” 

“Elinor is seventeen. She has been known to describe 
a man thirty as elderly.” 

“‘But—”’ it was a hard thing to say to a person like Mrs. 
Dana; a person who looked like the lady on a golden coin 
come to life, “but we're in love.” 

Mrs. Dana did the awful thing he’d expected. She 
laughed. 

“How in the world do you know you are?” 

“We know, all right,’’ Reg informed her, with a scarlet 
attempt at dignity. 

“But you don’t. You have only the vaguest idea what 
love is. You hardly know what women are. As for life!” 

In appreciation of his ignorance on that subject, all 
Mrs. Dana could 
do was laugh 
again. 

“No, no, Reg, 
my dear,’’ she 
repeated in final 
answer to his 
question. ‘‘Go 
away for about 
seven years and 
ripen a little, 
while I ripen 
Elinor. At the 
end of that time, 
if you decide 


you're in love, I 
may listen to 
you, no matter 
how farcicai your 
income.” 

‘*Does that 
mean I can’t see 
Elinor any 
more?” 

“Of course it 
doesn’t. I think 
you have been 
perhaps a trifle 
overconstant lately, but 
we'llsimply adore having 
you about again as soon 
as we get back from the 
South,”’ Elinor’s mother 
told him. 

They were going in 
four days. It was 
that which had pushed Reg to this hideous conversation. 

‘A month and a half from now?” Reg said bleakly. 

“Only,”’ Mrs. Dana continued, ‘‘you’re to see Elinor 
then with the understanding that you're just dear, ridic- 
ulous children, playing at a heroic game of whose im- 
plications you haven't the faintest conception. And now 





Ruth, Who Was Both Home: 
sick and Lovesick 


By CHARLES BRACKETT 


BY JAMES H. 








CRANK 


you'll have to ex- 
cuse me, Reg dear. 
I’m dining out. 
You've been so 
amusing. I'll 
promise never to 
tell, if it will make 
you more com- 
fortable.”’ 

Comfortable! 
Reg doubted if 
he would ever ex- 
perience another 
moment’s com- 
fort. 

He crawled 
back to the club as 
though he’d been 
literally put back 
into rompers. 

He’d got to think of him- 
self as quite old-lookiny, with 
his mustache, which, if it was 
slightly albino and apt to be 
invisible in any but the 
proper light, was of a very 
respectable texture. Now he 
knew that was just self- 













deception and conceit. 

It wasn’t as though Mrs. 
Dana was a she Methuselah 
w ose opinion on such mat- 
ters wasn’t worth anything. 
Mrs. Dana was just thirty- 
seven and lots more frivolous 
than Elinor. Reg had always 
believed her a great friend 
of his, and to learn what 
she really thought of him 
was horrible. 

He didn’t know how he'd have got through 
that evening if Tubby Preston hadn’t been at 
the club to listen to the story. Tubby had grad- 
uated the year before and was a mature, almost 
fatherly person who nursed a pipe and had judi- 
cial views on most subjects. 

“By George, that old girl must be as clever as they 
come,” was the reaction of Tubby, who had never seen 
Mrs. Dana. 

“Does that mean you think I am too young?” Reg 
asked fiercely. 

“Hell, no. You can’t be too young to marry. I’ve been 
too set in my ways to think of it, ever since I was twelve; 
but where she’s clever is that she seized on something with 
a little truth in it and made you so sensitive about it you'll 
probably never be able to face her again.” 

“‘Then you do think it’s true?” 

“Sure; I think you’re kind of a kid about some things. 
Have you ever been around with women at all?” 

Reg blushed. ‘‘ At house-party times,’’ he answered. 

“*T don’t mean nice girls. I mean chorus girls and things 
here in New York. Have you?” 

“‘T don’t like ’em,” Reg stated. 

“How do you know, if you haven’t ever been around 
with them? Now, look here, Reg; I don’t say the old girl 
is right. It wouldn’t be my idea to tie a daughter of mine 
up with some rotten roué, but maybe she’s not so crazy 
as you think. What if you were married to Elinor and one 
of these other women came along and hooked you? They 
say the guys without experience are the ones they get 
every time.” 

“I'd like to see the one I’d look at with Elinor around.” 

“Elinor wouldn’t stand a chance with the sort I mean,” 
Tubby said, emitting a great, meditative cloud of smoke. 
“The kind that raise hell with men. Silken women, you 
know.” 

“Aw, they’re something people make up,”’ Reg averred. 
*‘All the ones I ever saw just wriggle around and paw 
you, and make you sick.” 

“You're talking about the pikers,’’ Tubby told him. 
“They never made much trouble for anybody. But there 
are others. Subtle ones. The ones that give women the 





























Reg Kept His Eyes on Their Faces, Which Were 
Amazingly Alike in Smart Posterish Make-Up 


rotten reputation they have. Do you remember a play 
that stock company put on in North Adams called A Fool 
There Was, where the woman drained a man of every cent 
he had, and when he shot himself, laughed and said, ‘ Fool! 
Fool!’ and strewed rose petals over him? Well, it was 
pretty old-fashioned and all that, but I'll bet there was a 
lot of truth in it.” 

“Well, if there are any women like that, what would 
they want with me?” Reg queried. 

“To destroy you,”’ Tubby answered. ‘‘ That’s what they 
like—to destroy the male.”’ 

It was extraordinary how discussing the matter with 
Tubby, even though he agreed in a measure with Mrs. 
Dana, put it in a manlier, less shameful light. Neverthe- 
less, the depression Mrs. Dana had induced persisted, and 
that Friday afternoon of presumptive reverence for Mr. 
Chapin, Reg went to the club with no more joyous plan 
than to bum around with whoever happened to be there. 

The club was empty, however, and to kill time until 
someone arrived he indulged in a tub, instead of the 
hurried shower which was all he could get on working 
afternoons, when he came back grimy from bituminous 
downtown. 

When he went to his chiffonier to get fresh linen it 
struck him that fate was being rather gratuitously ironic 

Living in the club was always hard on his wardrobe, what 
with transient brothers taking anything they happened 

























































































































to need, with or without permission, and an acquisi- 
tive houseman cleaning his room every day; but last week 
in his absorption with Elinor Dana he had forgotten to 
send off his laundry, then forgotten his omission and 
drawn heedlessly on the supply of conservative, 
manly things such as he wore usually 


gentle- 
As a result, the 


drawers now held only their bottom-most secret layers. 
Their contents would have been a revelation to a psycho- 
analyst 

From time to time, during the past few years, Reg had 
bought clothes with a bravado which had never quite sus- 
tained him to the point of wearing them. They had sunk, 
a brilliant sediment, beneath the humdrum fluid of every- 
day necessities, and now they lay before him, not the sober 
habiliments of Reginald Brown, an earnest young man 
soberly facing life, but the bright garments of the sup- 
pressed Reg Brown, of the person he wished to be. 

Reg’s first reaction was to pull forth again the shirt he 
had just thrust into the bulging laundry bag, but the collar 
and cuffs were definitely gray and he was the cleanliest of 
creatures. 

He took the top shirt from the second drawer. It was 
of fine linen besprent with small red flowers, and on the 
bosom was worked an elaborate cipher in red embroidery. 
Reg’s possession of it was the result of a moment’s utter 
abandon in the New York branch of a French haber- 
dasher; a succursale so almost insultingly self-confident 
that it was practically hidden from the world in an upper 
room of a Fifth Avenue jeweler. Reg had never had it on 
his back except to be sure that 
it fitted him. 

Half-heartedly he adjusted 
the front collar button, the back 
collar button, and picked up a 
plain gold cuff link. Then he re- 
membered the cuff links he'd got 
at Bill Pierson’s wedding, with 
stripes of red enamel! across the 
gold. He found their case and 
extracted them, and suddenly it 
occurred to him that he had a 
bow tie whose finely dotted 
luster matched the little red 
flowers, and that he might as 
well wear it and a wing collar, 
and his short black coat and 
gray striped trousers. 

By the time those were laid 
out on the bed, so in the grip of 
glad sartorial frenzy did he find 
himself that, with a white pair 
still in the lowest drawer, Reg 
chose some blue-checked trunks 
which, with his running shirt, 
made a smart inner castume of 
their and when 
dressed, selected an incredibly 
handkerchief which 
a sophisticated version 
bright Scotch plaid. 

As he looked in the glass he 
wished Mrs. Dana could 
him. Experience! He might 
not have had such an awful lot, 
but he defied any casual 
server to suspect it. 

The plan of staying at the 
club had evaporated. In those 
clothes he’d go to the wildest 
place he could find. Everyone 
thought he needed experience so 
badly; he’d get a little. 

It was out of character for the 
young man in the mirror not to 
know a choice of the speedier 
resorts in which to spend a Fri- 
day afternoon in New York; but 
Reg didn’t. He’d thought, he 
meditated bitterly, that the 
proper course, if you wanted to 
get married, was to plug along 
and make good. With Elinor he 
was accustomed to seek out a 
little tea garden which called 
itself, rather affectedly, a 
Dancing. It was all right, but 
most of the people who went 
there, he now realized, were just 
kids. He wanted something of 
a very different caliber. 

A line of poetry came into his 


own: he was 


sheer was 


of a 


see 


ob- 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


That was his desire, too—for madder n and for 
stronger wine. As a matter of literalness, at the Dancing 
there had been no wine whatever 

The poem was about somebody in love and barred out 
from love just as he was. Where had he heard it? O} 
yes, Ruby Cook Shipman. He'd unfortunately picked it 


out to praise from a number of poems she recited and 
had turned out to be the on! 


only one not by ner 
Ruby Cook Shipman! Why, wasn't her salon just t 
place he was looking for? At least, wasn’t there a chanc 
this might prove one of the days of whose Bohemian 


’ 


brilliance she had told him 

Ruby Cook Shipman was one of those famous me ople of 
whom everyone meets a great many inter 
in New York. She was not only famous as the creator of 
the Shippie Kippies, which she herself despised as com- 
mercial, but she wrote poetry, and she had done a novel 
in the manner of James Joyce. 
with an almost 


during a first w 


She had seized upon Reg 
had 
acknowledged her famousness by knowing who she was at 
a club tea to which Tubby’s mother had, rather apolo- 
getically, brought her. 

Her salon was composed, or usually composed— Reg 
had been there twice, but both times off days—of 
people awfully important in the arts. It certainly seemed 
logical that if the ladies Tubby had spoken of were to be 
encountered any place to which he had access, it would be 
under the ceiling of a broad-minded woman like Ruby 
Cook Shipman. 


carnivorous cordiality when he 


on 








except wi 


terrible, 


entered 
Shipman had written a poem about | 


candles lit. 


distorted and poison: 
prove the disdain of wl n already 


Miss Shipman’s studio was on ¢ 


very handsome, or should have beer 


happened on off days as far as the 
had 


‘Don't tell on 


always seen it in a good dea 
me,” 
him both times he had been there 
en I’ve been having a 
doesn't it? 
you? 


candles, will 





Thing 


the door was open; 
her heart 
The 


so Reg 


caroled 


another 


stant a 


nave 
“Don't f 
Snifter 


. 


accurate 








head —‘‘I cried for madder mu- 
sic and for stronger wine.” 


“I'm Going to Supper With Bill After the Show. 


Z'tt Get Him to Take You Too" 


Ruby Cool 


K 


been mal 


\ 


peared in 


Shipmar 


\} 


“Tt ne 


slege 


| 
| 
| irresponsible 
| 
| 
| 
| 
| 





Or 


no 


ol 


a 


yw 


So if anybody comes 


a 


head 


their pizalr re 


“ Hello,”’ 


he and she 


Was peaullilll In a 


f 


carefully painté 


Continued 


grown on 


Pull down the shades and light t 


looked more propitious that afte 


it always was; Ruby 


because the shades were already 
room was apparently des 
ti 


“ Ruby’ll be right there 


“Ruby and Snifter, 


vay ft oT 
wit a riotou 
ri mig 
| ern col 
snitte 
nsor vas M 
inat i 
e can define 
at r it 


Reg greeted him. 


“Absolutely hello, ne re- 
turned. ‘* We be wit uina 
minute You know 
Why, where's she gone? Look 
around and u'll find some- 
thing nice 

With that a person rose from 
the depths of a da nair 

“I’m here a ful voice 
said 

Snifter ted a giggle and 
withdrew, and Reg f i him- 
self looking into the smoldering 
eyes of exact the creature 
Tubby Pres " is had 
evoked t his gination 

She was tall —a st as tall as 


Her clothes and her hat were 
like those of ladies in pictures 
which the artist has mere 
gested \ a sure lines 
Amazingly enougr! ) he ir 
was the one WwW ( Tubby id 
quoted his woman as usin 
*Fool,”’ sne Sa meaning 
snilter and sank int rena 
igain. 
Reg « ulqd SF er there \ 


darkness, her face smoldering 
He tried to think of something 
sopnisticated t say W he 
couldn't despise, t he he 
had succeeded she 

‘What are vou looking at me 

Her litr Wi i 
lenge 

‘I didn't | witw { j- 
den,”” he respor i ; 


on Page 





er gets Ke 


ake 


and a head a} 


46 











HERE was a family in Fraternity by the 

name of Brisker. That is to say, there had 

heen a family by that name; but only two 
brothers remained. Old Will Brisker had owned 
a decent farm toward North Fraternity, and 
when his neighbors gave up the effort to maintain them- 
selves upon the land and moved away he sometimes 
bought their holdings. In this wise he came into possession 
of the stand of buildings and some fifty acres of land 
between his own farm and the village where, after his 
death, Morris Brisker lived alone. Jud, the elder brother, 
stayed at the original farm and prospered there. Old Will 
had been dissatisfied with Morris, and had expressed this 
feeling so openly and so often that Morris held in the town 
much the same position as a dog which has acquired a 
bad name. 

If Morris was a dog with a bad name, Jud was a horse of 
another color; for the two brothers were unlike in almost 
every particular. There was a tremendous disparity in size 
between them; for Morris was a big man, with hulking 
shoulders and a lowering brow, while Jud was small and 
active and efficient, and he had a gift for good humor and 
a ready smile. Also Jud was aggressive and confident, 
while life had taught Morris to be mild and unassertive 
and to take ill fortune as it came. 

Their farms were nearer North Fraternity than Fra- 
ternity itself, so that they did not come to the village for 
the mail and were seldom seen there on other errands. 
Nevertheless, their affairs were of interest to the town, and 
were well enough known. It was known, for instance, that 
the enmity between them dated back to the time when, as 
boys together at home, they fought, and Morris, uncon- 
scious of his own strength, broke his brother’s arm. The 
arm had been set by old Will Brisker himself and had been 
slightly crooked ever since; it thus served to keep Jud 
continually reminded of the wrong his brother once had 
done him. And for all his good humor, he was not a for- 
giving man. 

Not that this long ill feeling between them ever flamed 
nowadays into any active fire; but it existed and was rec- 
ognized, and it could be discovered by any observant eye 
in Jud’s countenance whenever he encountered his brother. 
Morris never displayed any particular dislike for Jud; it is 
doubtful whether he felt any. He was, as has been said, a 
humble soul; and it is probable that he was always con- 
us that in that ancient victory he had been wrong. 


ILLUSTRATED BY w. H. D. 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 









By Ben Ames Williams 


KOERNER 


The farm where Morris lived was on a slope of land that 
canted to the north, and so was not so productive as other 
lands about; Jud’s place, nearer North Fraternity, was as 
good as any farm in town. So while Morris had seldom 
more than a scant finger hold on security, Jud did well and 
thriftily. There was a woman whom he hired to come in 
daily and attend him, make his bed, cook his supper in the 
evening, wash his dishes afterward and keep his house in 
general order. Morris, on the other hand, was his own 
cook and housemaid, and his kitchen was a scandal to the 
community. 

The Frye place was just across the road from Morris’ 
farm; but during the three years it lay empty the man had 
no neighbor nearer than his brother, half a mile away. He 
must have been, at times, lonely enough; but he was not 
heard to complain. Then Weed bought the Frye place and 
came up from Portland to live there; and he and his wife 
put it in order and brought it into productive life again. 
Weed at first sometimes went to Morris for advice, for he 
was not a man who knew anything about farming; he had 
bought this farm, as it were, by the doctor’s order, and he 
was not well. Morris gave liberally of what wisdom he pos- 
sessed; but Weed usually found that the other’s advice had 
been wrong, and after a time he ceased to ask for it, and 
Morris soon gave over volunteer assistance. 

Cindy Weed, the newcomer’s wife, saved the situation. 
She had been born on a farm near Augusta, one of a large 
family of girls; and she had been used to doing chores and 
all the little tasks a farm can offer. Weed had to avoid the 
harder enterprises, because any extreme exertion reacted 
unfavorably on his health. So Cindy usually split the 
wood and pitched the hay and did whatever required stern 
manual effort. She was fit for it—a fine, strong woman, as 
big as a man; and she had strength not only for these en- 
terprises but also to care for Weed as tenderly as though 
he had been a baby. Whatever might be done for him she 
did; but it was not enough, for in his second year in Fra- 
ternity, in March, when the thaws began, he died. 

A year or two later Will Belter said one night at the store 
in Fraternity village that he expected she would marry 
Jud Brisker by and by. 








August 14,1926 


Cindy Went Across to Fetch 

Morris; and He Came With:« 

out Protest, Dragging His 
Ladder Behind Him 


While Weed was ill, Fraternity folk did what 
they could to make matters easier for Cindy; and 
when he died, they offered her a measure of sober 
sympathy which she found surprising. She was 
never a sentimental woman, never much given to 
any overt display of feeling; and her demeanor 
during the formalities of the funeral was still and 
unemotional. But afterward Lee Motley’s wife 
kept her to dinner with them, and to spend the 
night; and Mrs. Motley, turning down the cov- 
erlet on the other’s bed when they went upstairs 
at last, saw that her guest was weeping silently. She pre- 
tended not to observe this. 

But Cindy said, with a little laughter behind her tears, 
“T know I’m a fool to act this way; but you've all been so 
good to me.” 

So the two women talked for a while together, and Cindy 
confessed that heretofore she had felt excluded and shut 
out from the life of the village. ‘‘I thought you didn’t like 
me, or maybe disapproved of the way I worked around the 
place all the time. But I had to.” She had intended, she 
confessed, to sell the farm and go back to her home. ‘But 
you’ve all been so good to me,”’ she explained, ‘“‘that I’ve 
decided to stay and run the place and get along if I can.” 

And Mrs. Motley approved and encouraged her. This 
was before Lee himself was forced to give up the struggle. 

“You'll do fine,”” Mrs. Motley assured her. ‘‘ You're as 
able as a man.” 

The word of her decision went abroad through the town, 
and it was received without any comment which came to 
her ears. She had at that season little more than routine 
chores to do; and she was thus given time to plan her 
movements when the thaws should pass, the ground dry 
out a bit and plowing time come around. She and Weed 
had kept two cows and some chickens and a pig to use the 
surplus milk; but they had neither horse nor oxen for the 
plowing. She expected to have to hire this done. 

But one day Jud Brisker drove into the yard with his 
team and a plow in the wagon,'and knocked at the kitchen 
door and said with that friendly smile of his, confident and 
sure, ‘‘’Morning, Mis’ Weed. Where'd you figure on hav- 
ing your garden this year? I can plow it for you.” 

This was the beginning of their developing intimacy. 
She had, of course, seen Jud before. His brother Morris, 
just across the road, she saw more often; but Morris was a 
character almost negative, inconspicuous and unassertive, 
a part of his background. Sometimes days passed when 
she was not even conscious of his movements or of what he 
did. Jud was a man less easily ignored, and during the suc- 
ceeding months she saw more and more of him. They met 
in no social fashion, but Jud was apt to appear when 
there was work to be done that lay beyond her strength. 






































nt 
4 




















He cultivated her garden once or twice, after things began 
to grow; he and Gay Hunt got in enough hay to carry her 
through the winter; he brought a man to buy her apples 
and arranged for their picking; and he spent some days in 
October felling white birch and working it up into four-foot 
lengths, hauling and stowing it in the shed that connected 
her house with her barn. 

Cindy accepted these ministrations gratefully. There 
was no reason why she should not do so, since Jud never 
attempted to approach a more familiar footing with her 
But she was, even from the first, vaguely disquieted by the 
fact that he refused to be paid for his labors 

““No, ma’am,”’ he used tosay. ‘‘I got some free time and 
nothing to do at home — that’s all.”’ 

During the winter after her husband’s death she discov- 
ered, or seemed to discover, in his manner toward her a 
suggestion of authority, of possession. ‘‘As though,”’ she 
thought, “‘he were beginning to feel that he had to take 
care of me, and that he could tell me what to do.”’ Thus, 
long before Will Belter put into words the expectation that 
she would some day marry Jud, Cindy had understood 
quite plainly that she could if she wished, that Jud himself 
would eventually make the issue plain. And since it is not 
a pleasant estate for a woman to be alone on one of these 
remote farms, she weighed the possibility in her mind. 

It was as a result of these considerations that, in the 
summer, fifteen months after her hushand’s death, she 
went across the road one day to talk to Morris Brisker. 
She was, of course, by this time on familiar terms with 
Morris; she knew the manner of his life and she knew the 
He had at first seemed to her to be the perfect type 
of indolent and shiftless farmer, living a bachelor existence, 
a recluse, an idle and a worthless man. Herself indomitably 
energetic, she had difficulty in understanding that a man, 
his muscular strength infinitely superior to her own, could 
live under such cir- 
cumstances as Morris 
did. She first 
across to his house on 
that day when her hus- 
band was taken ill, 
when it was necessary 
to move him to his bed 

‘‘And I can’t man- 
age him alone,” she 
told Morris. ‘So if 
you could come over 
and help me zn 

He nodded, some- 
thing ponderous and 
at the same time im- 
pressive in the 
movement of his great 
head 
‘*T’ll come right 
he said, and 

her toward 

It was just 


man. 


went 





slow 


along,” 

followed 
the door. 
before supper in the 
evening; and she saw 
his coffeepot on the 
stove, and went totake 
it off and set it aside. 

‘“*It might boil 
over,”’ she explained. 

‘*The dummed 
thing always does,” 
he replied without 
heat, “‘minute you 
turn your back.”” He 
followed her across the 
road. 

She was, a little 
later, furiously angry 
with him; for though 
he lifted her husband 
easily and carried him 
to their room like a 
baby, he was at the 
same time so awkward 
at the task that he 
dragged Weed’s shins 
against the door jamb, 
wringing a low cry 
from the man. And 
Cindy could hardly 
control her unreason- 
ing anger; she 
missed Morris with a 


dis- 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


had time 


again to the house across the road, and she 


these visits to form a r plete picture f the f 


which the big man lived. The disorder in the house, she 


came to perceive, was not the result of laziness on his part; 


it was apparent that he tried to have things in some pro- 


priety The sooty coffeepot was not merely neglected 


it had been scrubbed and scrubbed, but by an inexpert 


hand. The rusty stove showed evidences of care, thoug! 
the care was absurdly unskillful; the floor had beer 
serubbed, but there was fresh mud on it from the man’s 
boots; the bed was made, but lumpily. And there were 


about the house an astonishing number of things which had 
legs of 


vet still unstable: 


been broken and ineptly repaired-—a chair, the 
which were braced with strands of wire, 
a rattling pane in the window, set by an amateur hand to 
replace a broken one; a cracked lamp chimney, streaked 
with soot from an untrimmed wick unable 
to hold her hand, she set to work to put the house to rights; 
and she found it, for all its disorder, surprisingly clean in 
unexpected places. There was no dirt under the sink, no 
useless litter in the closets, not even dust beneath the bed. 

‘“‘He’s a man, that’s all,’’ she told herself, coming at last 
to a conclusion, cataloguing her neighbor in her mind. 
“‘That’s all’s the matter with him; he just don’t know how 
to do for himself, that’s all.’’ So she did for him upon occa- 
sions; she washed his dishes with scalding water to remove 
the accumulated film of old grease which polished them; 
she mended his clothes; she blacked the stove. There was, 
of course, no regularity about these ministrations on her 
part, and it is possible that by contrast Morris found his 
condition even more distressing when his affairs fell into 
their old disorder once more. But her efficiency delighted 
him, won the big man to a slow and silent admiration and a 
reverence; he used to watch her thus admiringly while she 
moved to and fro in his home. 


Once or twice, 














curt word, sent him 
home. 
Later and on other — 


she went 








occasions 


**+ Morning, Mis’ Weed. Where'd You Figure on Having Your Garden This Year? 












It was to tk Ss mar Tud's brother then, t af e turned 
when she wished t rN 1 being und further yat 
to Jud. She crossed the road one morning n June, just 
after breakfast, and she found Morris wa gy his break 
fast dishes with a slow and imsy pa i t At her 
knock she heard him come toward he i then a dish f 
and crashed in shards across the floor; and she laughed a 
him uncertainly and said, “‘Didn’t scare you as bad as 
that did I?” 

“I’m always dr i 

She took the t ] nr r she 
said, and proceeded to do so, talking er her shouider t 
him while she worked, explaining what her errand was 

So I was wondering if I could get you to come and 
help,” she explained. ‘‘ There won't be more’n three da 
work, say. I don’t have to have only enough hay for the 
cows - 

He said unemotionally, “I reckon I can come But 
when she asked what he would charge her for the work, she 


surprised him to faint protest. 


to pay me,” he said uneasily. 
She laughed. 
she confessed 


the town yet, anyway 


“Gus 


es I wouldn't ask you 


‘I don’t want you unless I can pay you,” 
“Jud’d do it for nothing; but 
I want to hire it done this year 


He fumbled a little, seeking words. ‘“‘Jud coming, is 


he?”’ he asked. 
‘Can't you and I do it? 


horse and pitch on, and you can load it 


I'd like to get it 


added quickly, “I'll tell you; 


1 
**Guess he wouldn't want me helping him 


” she urged 





t and mow it.”’ She 
g done, and 


then if Jud does come to do it, I can tell him it’s all finished 


Do you see?”’ 


“‘ He's haying now,” Morris agreed 
y 
‘Plenty of time for that,”’ he told her; and in the end 


I don’t want to interfere wit! 


she had her way. She was always prompt it 








I Can Plow it for You"’ 


‘I see him yest’day.”’ 
uur work, of course 

execution; sne 
they 


and he 


suggested that 
start that day, 
azreed 

Cindy found the ex 
perience a trying one 
She did her part well 
enough Morris 


tried, the furious per 


ana 





spiration on his brow 


the result not so much 


of his physical exer- 
tior is of his anxiety 
to satisfy her But 


the man did not know 
how to use his strength 
and the result was that 


they were in continual 


difficulties. He broke 
the hayrake his 
ow! by driving it 


over a rock, and they 


ost half a day while he 


repaired it with hay 
wire and splints of 
wood 

But | eptitude 
did not fully appear 
till they came to the 


f getting the 


busines 
hay into the barn 
» had sug- 


ed the 


Cindy, as sh 
gested, pit 
uff onto the 


Morris 


load 





st rack : 


tndertook to 
To load hay on a 


wagon appears to be a 


business simple 
enough; but as Morris 
did it, it entailed a 
series of mishaps. Al- 


most every time, or 


the way to the barn, 


half the load was jolted 





off; great gouts of hay 
would topple to this 
side or that and have 
to he pit hed back on 
agalr and or whilk 
he wa acing, tne 
hav under his feet slid 
off t t load ar a he fe | 
Ww } ; \A er ec} ig i 
ankle in such fashior 
that he limped for tl 
rest th i 


Continued on 


Page 140 








12 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


Production and Prosperity 
Pisce. By ISAAC Fk. MARCOSSON —asmerqoree 


y i street to 
ndicate offhand 


the basic factor in 


ur prosperity and 
the chances are 
that he will name 
production. Noris 
it surprising. He 
ees evidence of it 
W verever he turns, 
because America 
thinks and works 
in Dig terms 

The automobile 
that takes him to 
work or play; the 
radio that beguiles 
his hours at home; 
the movie that he 
watches every 
week; the tele- 
phone, typewriter, 
newspaper anc 
magazine that 
have become part 
and parcel of his 
daily life, are all 
symbols of a quan- 
tity effort that is 
the wonder of the 
age. Production, 
therefore, is the 
headliner in the 
gilded formula for 
ouraffluencewhich 





makes us both 





The scope of life is 
widened and 
brightened, and 
you have that con- 
tentment which, in 
the last analysis, 
is the guaranty of 
progress. 

Our industry is 
| more than a cease- 
less machine vi- 
brant with a vast 
energy. It repre- 
sents a new coop- 
eration that is the 
guaranty of indus- 
trial success. 

The creators of 
this era in output 
are more than 
mere business 
men. They have 
that quality of 
economic states- 
manship which 
makes for big lead- 
ership. Conspicu- 
ous among them is 
Owen D. Young 
As Chairman of 
the Board of Di- 
rectors of the Gen- 
eral Electric Com- 
pany, he occupies 
a preéminent posi- 
tion in industry. 








unique and envied 
among the nations 
of the earth. 

In the first article of this series the composite picture of 
our national well-being and its bulwarks was revealed. We 
can now get down to specialization. Production will be fea- 
tured. Hence the star performer in the second reel of this 
prosperity panorama will be the industrial producer. 

It means that the curtain will rise on a spectacle that is 
vitally and distinctively American. In no other country 
anywhere have coal, iron, steel, copper, coke and 
oil been translated into such a titanic drama of 


MOTO. BY EWING GALLOWAY, N.Y. C, FROM CULVER SERVICE 


The Auto is First in American Manufactures 


Wages in American industries have risen 199 per cent 
since the outbreak of the World War, while the cost of 
goods and services used in the average worker's family 
has risen only 70 per cent. The worker puts in 7 per cent 
less work time a week and gets much more return for what 
he spends. With this prosperity of the individual has come 
a larger prosperity for the nation through the now-constant 


His work as mem- 
ber of the Dawes 
Committee is part 
of the history of these times. It is peculiarly fitting, there- 
fore, that his analysis of production in its relation to 
American life and progress should lead off this second 
installment of interviews. Here it is: 

“It is frequently said that the causes of American indus- 
trial supremacy are mass production and management. 
Without quarreling with that answer or denying its 

correctness, I should prefer to make it more per- 
sonal and concrete by saying that it is men and 








wealth and power. It has brought about an aston- 
shing self-containment at home and a growing trade 
abroad. 

Mining and manufacturing account for 14 per 
cent of our national equity, which is only 2 per cent 
agricultural figure. There is no magic 
or mystery about this. We have effectively utilized 
materials, labor, capital and power under a system 
of management that not only makes for individual 
advancement but achieves miracles of output. 


less than the 


Increased Output, Decreased Labor 


QUINCE the beginning of the century our manu- 
» facturing production has increased more than 
i60 per cent; our mining production, 225 per cent; 
and our agricultural production, 40 per cent, whereas 
yur population has grown only 50 per cent. Output 
of manufactured articles has grown from $77.34 
per capita to $134:28, after allowing for changes in 
the value of the dollar. 
n goods available for each indi- 
vidual has come without a proportionate increase in 
human labor, but by more efficient direction. Since 
1889 the horse power back of every worker in indus- 
try has advanced 76 per cent. Taking the bigger 
view, in a quarter century horse power in manu- 
facture has grown from 10,000,000 to 33,000,000, 
f which 153,000,000 is in electric power. In 
consequence the personnel required to produce a 
unit of manufactured product has decreased 33 per 
cent 

To illustrate: When the United States Steel 
Corporation was organized twenty-five years ago 
the production of a ton of pig iron required fourteen 

uurs of work for one man. Today it takes an 


This increase 





average of two hour 








NATIONA 


Steel is One of the Corner Stones of American Prosperity 


money working together on well-defined principles.” 
Men and Money in Production 


“THEY have men in other countries as able as 

ourown. They have money, too; not as much, 
to be sure, but perhaps enough. The striking differ- 
ence between our industrial organization and theirs 
is the principle and spirit which govern the coép- 
eration of capital and labor, or men and money in 
production. 

“Our capital is plentiful; our labor is scarce. 
That has compelled us to make machines do the 
work of men and to put great power back of the 
machines. In order to get the largest output from 
the machines at the lowest cost we were obliged 
to standardize our product into a few types and 
manufacture it in great volume. In this way we 
harnessed our capital to make good our deficient 
labor supply. We made our workers directors 
instead of generators of power. 

“We increased our output a man without strain 
on him, and increasing our production a man and 
a foot of floor space we learned that high wages 
were not inconsistent with low costs. We learned 
that our principle of coéperation between men and 
money must be that men should make the machines 
work to their fullest possible capacity. There was 
no room for the notion of limitation of output such 
as exists in foreign countries. Under our conditions 
limitation meant that capital was idling, that the 
men were not making capital contribute its share 
toward high wages. 

“From this results a new theory of management 
altogether. The managers of great concerns are no 
longer the paid attorneys of the capitalists to depress 
wages and boost the market in order that profits 











~—— 


=. — 
































THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





may be high. They are, instead, trustees of an institution, American industry. This does not mean that 
the object of which is to bring capital and labor into part- periodical adjustments will not have to be 
nership for economical production on a vast scale. In the made, nor that we shall have a wholly unir 
interest of the institution they must see to it that capital is terrupted continuation of prosperity. 

» safe and well paid that it is available to them under all whole, however, such readjustments shou 
conditions. They must see to it that the product is so well come with less shock, continue a shorter time, 
and economically made as to command the market under and be accompanied by much less general 
all conditions. disturbance of the business structure 

“These two requirements are absolutely essential tohigh characterized the so-called panics and 
and continuous earning power on the part of every man __ times of the past 
engaged, from the president of the concern to the most “‘Among the reasons for thi 
unskilled of the workers. Being in command of capital The changing character of the 
that is to say, the most effective tools—and being in com- of our country; the increasing diver 
mand of the market— that is, the best product at the lowest cupation, thereby minimizing the risk 
price-—the institution is sound in its balance sheet and the adequate banking system to meet 
men are safe in their jobs. That makes the best place for ing demands for credits: a sound currer 
men to invest their money, and at the same time, the best improved transportation; better organizat 
place for men to work. of industry and the distribution of its pr 

‘How different all this is from the little industrial unit ucts; a clearer understanding of relation 
of New England two generations ago! There the owners tweenemployer and employe, and more c! 
were the managers, and low wages meant low cost, and defined relationships between business 
high wages, high cost. It was truly a conflict between the Government. 
labor and capital. Then stockholders were own- 
ers. If business was not promising they did not 
sell their stock, but corrected the weakness of the 
business. Today, in our great corporations, our 
stockholders are investors. They are interested in 
the balance sheet and in their dividends, but not 
in the business. If the business does not look 
promising the stockholders do not try to correct 
it. They sell their stock.” 


; a 
A Common:Sense Formula j 7 natieieelll a 
“TN THAT other day all men not stockholders sue Sanam Wages t One of the eee oe vere 
~ { “ Places at the Noon Hour. At Left—New Eng: 

were employes, whether they were managers or , o ~ A :7 ceil Gentian Gibliers Bhier the Whictte Bleue 
workers. Now, all men, whether managers or ‘ 
workers, are jointly interested in trying to make , m» be . : “The prosperity of the | 
capital, expressed in inanimate machines and in c ; N ; national life of the people 
nanimate power, produce a mass output of stand- . ? SE sums available to conduct the 
ardized type which will guarantee to them the ae P state, and local government 
safety of the institution, the maintenance of their i . . enters into the domestic econom: 
earning power, and most of all, their pride in their iss . ; fi hold, and is the final fact 
own concern. | only the cost of living 





“The interest of the great concern is no longer ‘ ." , “To achieve it there 
local or sectional. It is as wide as its market, and ; ie the ability to produce 


as we become exporters it becomes world wide. Cae ) Hs chase. No political vagar 
This accounts for the increasing interest of the ee. y . ‘ tute for the common-sens 
managers of great - ; 7 | 
businesses, not 
only in the eco- 
nomic affairs of 
this country but of 
the world. As 
trustees of na- 
tional institutions 
their interests are 
the nation’s inter- 
est, and their 
power is the na- 
tion’s power.’ 

The production 
that Mr. Young 
has so clearly de- 
fined would be im- 
potent without 
our vast and diver- 
sified resources. 
We shall next get 
the opinion of Cor- Q : 1ay be summar- 
nelius F. Kelley, ‘ zed un four 
president of the «i ads : irst 
Anaconda Copper : ; a n a stable and 
Mining Company, ~ oF K. —.. airly adminis 
which, with its , : f : 
affiliated compa- 
nies, accounted for 
18 per cent of the 
total world output 
of copper and 20 
per cent of the 
production of 
North and South 
America last year. 
His appraisal fol- 
lows: 

“The danger of 
violent and wide 
spread fluctuation 
in economic con- 
ditions has been, 
to a great extent, '~- — — — eee Continued on 
removed from : Making Tires Upon Which the Wortd Rides Pasze 54 











he 
re impor 
elements in 


prosperity 














THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


) 


N THE credit side of his personal ledger Ear! Ab- 
bott had a romantic nature, a coonskin coat, a co!- 
lege diploma with the dew still fresh on it, a job 
with a future in his uncle’s importing company, a roadster, 
a pleasant’ tenor voice and a deep-rooted conviction that 
Miss Polly Boyden was the most charming and desirable 
creature in the 
known world. 

On the debit side 
Mr. Abbott was 
faced by a shortage 
in self-esteem, due 
to the fact that he 
was keenly aware 
that he weighed one 
hundred and ninety 
seven pounds. Now 
a casual critic would 
have called Mr. Ab- 
bott large, for he 
was tall, big of 
frame, and, though 
well rounded, not 
overly lumpy. But 
Mr. Abbott always 
thought of himself 
as fat, gross, obese. 

This depressed him. 

In his four years 
at Yale he had 
poured many facts 
into his mind, but 
the one which stuck 
and persist- 
ently haunted him 
was that, in the 
whole history and 
literature of love, 
few, if any, fat men 
have cut dashing 
figures. He brooded 
over his poundage. 

Particularly in the 

of Miss 

soyden was he con- 

For, in 

her riding habit, 

with boots and crop thrown in, Miss Boyden could step 
on the scales with the indicator set at one hundred pounds 
and not cause it so much as to flicker. When he was away 
from her he was miserable, and when he was with her he 
was distrait, warm, moist and, as to tongue, numb. 

And there wasn’t much he could do, it seemed. In vain 
did he confine his diet to fruit juices, until the sight of an 
orange made him wince. In vain did he jerk chest weights, 
heave medicine balls till he was one vast ache. Nature had 
spoken. He’d melt, boil and fast off a pound in the after- 
noon, only to put it on again immediately that evening, 
merely by reading the dinner menu at the club. Scales had 
a gruesome fascination for him. He daily lurked in their 
vicinity, just as murderers are popularly supposed to be 
drawn to the scenes of theircrimes. Six orseven times a day 
he slipped a hopeful penny in the slot of some weighing ma- 
chine, closed his eyes in prayer as the arrow spun round, 
opened them wide with the wild optimism of a man who 
looks for miracles, faced the inexorable figures— and loudly 
groaned 

However, on his twenty-fifth birthday, Earl Abbott 
made up his mind to do something more positive about the 
emotion he felt for Polly Boyden than yearn. He had been 
yearning actively for three years now. He had clung toa 
might cause him to waste away. It 


there 


presence 


scious of it. 


hope that yearning 
hadn't 

He dared permit himself the belief that Polly liked him. 
She was always glad to see him when he called; or seemed 
to be She liked to hear him sing, or said so. 
She unprotestingly, to parties, football 
games, the theater. They had good times together, he and 
Polly. Of course, he reflected, their conversation had al- 
ways been pretty impersonal, just gossip about their friends 
and books and shows and such things. Yes, he could be 
fairly sure that Polly liked him. But Mr. Abbott aspired 
to more than that 

Being liked, he mused, as he guided his car up Fifth 
Avenue, toward her house, is the fate of fat men. They 
make splendid friends of the family. They are comfortable 
They sing, 


anyway. 


went with him, 


to have around one needs cheering up. 


August 14,1926 


RRIBLIE TROPIC 


By Richard Connell 


ILLUSTRATED Br ROBERT w. 


Earl Abbott Set His Teeth. 
Mr. Cameron Was Greeting 
Them, a Setf+Possessed 
Smite on His Well«Cut Face 


they give bird imitations, they tell their little stories, they 
fit in nicely in a bridge game. They are good natured, 
sympathetic, amusing and often they pay the check. 
Girls give them a big-brother friendship. Then the day 
comes when the fat man, miserable in his cutaway and high 
collar, aware that the debutantes are tittering at the way 
he crowds his trousers, stands in church and sees the girl 
he loves marry some lean, trim, earnest-faced chap, while 
he struggies to keep the tears from trickling down over his 
second chin. 

Earl Abbott had a set purpose as he headed for Polly 
Boyden’s home that evening. He was going to tell her 
something, and he was going to ask her something. He 
had invited her to have dinner and go to the theater with 
him, explaining that it was his birthday and he wanted to 
give a little private party. He had resolved that before 
he brought her home he was going to tell her what was in 
his heart. 

She was so delicious to look at, he thought, as she greeted 
him, that his faculties of speech were all but paralyzed. 
He managed to gulp a good evening. He held her evening 
cape of softest white fur and his hands trembled as he 
placed it about her slender shoulders. 

“It’s been a glorious day,” said Polly Boyden. 
Abbott drew in his breath. 

“Yes,”’ he said, “it has.” 

‘*And what a heavenly evening!” 

“Yes, isn’t it?” 

He had a pressing wish to kick himself for his ineptness. 
Polly deserved a poetic lover; doubtless she expected one, 
too—one who could say glamorous things about the eve- 
ning and the stars and her eyes. 

“‘Don't you like my dress?”’ he heard her asking. 


Earl 


STEWART 


“You bet.”’ Earl 
Abbott almost did 
kick himself then. 
Of course he should 
have spoken of that 

dress. He had noticed it, of course, 
and had been groping for words to 
tell her how lovely he thought 
it and she were. 

“T rode in the park today,” said 
Polly, as he helped her into the car. 

“Did you?”’ Yes, he must kick himself. What an asi- 
nine thing to say—‘‘ Did you?” Of course she did, or she 
would not have said so. 

“You don’t ride, do you, Earl 

“No.”” That wasn’t much of an answer. He sought ur- 
gently for some explanation with which to soften his blunt 
monosyllable. ‘‘I guess I’m too—too— beefy.” 

Beefy? That sickening word! He had not meant to say 
it. He had intended to say busy. But the “beefy’’ had 
slipped out because that was the word he applied to himself 
in his more intense moments of self-criticism. He loathed 
himself. He did not want her to think of him as beefy; no 
doubt she did. He glanced at her, so small, so delicate, so 
fragile—a lark beside a duck. He must say something 
something light, to show that he was only joking. 

To his horror he heard himself laugh a hollow laugh and 
say, ‘Beauty and the Beef!” 

He hoped sincerely that his car would collide violently 
with a bus, that Polly would escape unhurt, but that he 
would be reduced to a pulp. He was denied this fate. 

They entered the ornate portals of the Restaurant 
Regina, which Earl had chosen because the booths there 
give dining couples a semiprivacy. It is the current dining 
place of society. The menu is in French and asparagus 
costs one dollar the stalk. It will be the favored dining 
spot of society until a new restaurant is opened where the 
menu is in French and asparagus costs one dollar and a 
quarter the stalk. Earl Abbott invested a considerable 
portion of his weekly salary in caviar, quail, asparagus and 
bombe Regina, and turned to Polly. 

She was almost too beautiful to speak to, but he, muster- 
ing his forces, began. ‘‘An evening like this,” he said, 
“fills a fellow with all sorts of thoughts.” 

“‘T suppose so.” 

She was looking at him, steadily, seriously 
He was afraid that if he 


9 


He played 


with his butter knife. looked at 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


her he would burst out with, “I don’t want to eat or talk or 
think. I want to take you in my arms and hold you and 
kiss you and love you.” 

But that, he reflected, would sound silly, coming from a 
fat man, especially in the Restaurant Regina. He looked 
across the room and in the mirror saw a reflection of him- 
self, his blond hair, his roundish, pinkish face. His eyes 
rested on the image of his white shirt bosom—a starched 
prairie. 

“Looks like a skating rink,” he thought. 

“‘What are you thinking about, Earl?” 
soft. 

“Oh, nothing.” 

“You look so serious 
thing. Is it my hair? 

“Tt’s swell, Polly.” 

Swell? He had been thinking it was exquisite, entirely 
adorable. He fought off a growing sense of being inade- 
quate to the situation by reminding himself that his great- 
great-grandfather had been a general in the Revolutionary 
War. Never-Say-Die Abbott, they called him. The great- 
great-grandson of a man called Never-Say-Die could hardly 
retreat now. Earl Abbott addressed his companion: 
“‘Polly?”’ 

“Yes, Earl 

“T want to ask you something.” 

She bent her small head toward him attentively 
“ter 

He cleared his throat 
like?” 

Polly considered. ‘All sorts,’ she decided. 

“I mean’’—he addressed the fruit salad he had re- 
luctantly ordered for his own dinner—‘‘ what sort of man 
does your sort of girl 
like?”’ 

Polly wrinkled her 
““My sort of 
Am I just a 


Her voice was 


I’m sure you're thinking of some- 
Don’t you like it cut this way?” 


9” 


“What sort of man do—girls 


brow. 
girl? 
sort?” 

No, in- 
Earl hastily 
assured her. ‘‘ You're 
no sort of girl. I 
mean, you're a girl all 
by yourself. I guess 
what I meant was 
what sort of man do 
you like—you, your- 
self, I mean.” 

Polly gravely gave 
thought to the ques- 
tion. ‘First of all,” 
she said at length, 
‘*he must be a man.” 
Earl Abbott nodded. 
So far, so good. 
“Then,” said Polly, 
“‘he must be fine and 
honest and—well, 
masculine.” 

‘‘Aren't most 
men?” asked Earl. 

“Not the way I 
mean,’’ answered 
Polly. ‘‘I mean 
I suppose another 
word for it is master- 
ful—I like aman who 
does things.” 

‘I know,” said 
Earl, a shade of de- 
spair in his 
‘‘you like the ag- 
type—the 
go-getter. I guess 
that’s the only trait 
in men that women 
really admire.” 

“It's a good trait,” 
said Polly. ‘‘Of 
course,” she added, 
“it’s a great deal in 
any man’s favor that 
he’s in love with me.” 

““T suppose a lot 
of fellows are,” said 
Earl, in a voice hardly 
describable as over- 
joyed. 

Well,” said Polly, 
“I’m twenty-two, 
blond, and 
looking round.” 


“Oh, no! 
deed!” 


voice; 


gressive 





Roaacr ow, aa 
1922 


d & 


active 


Your Uncte and Aunt Were Coming Past Here on Their Yacht. 


Farl Abbott drew in his breatl 


ked a man, would it 


you 


mak 
tried to 


mu 


what he looked like?” He make 
mund casual 


if I « 


beard or 


‘I doubt 


said Polly 
aman wit! 


“Of course,” 


to love a long browr with ferret 


Karl, most girls have an ideal foun 


You see, probably 


They, natu 


that ideal.” 


a book when they were silly and sixteen 


fall 


} } 
iali In love 


with a man who is like 
“‘Did you have one, Polly 

“Of course.”’ 
“What was 
“It sounds simple-minded 


“Please te 


t like?”’ 

now 
1] me 

‘Well,”’ said Polly, “1 fell in love with a man when I was 
love letters for him in a stone wal! 


fifteen | used to leave 


I used to lie awake in my room hoping he would come to 
the rose garden under my window and ask me to elope with 
him on his horse 
“Who was he? 
Polly blushed. ‘“ 
“You think I'm silly, 
‘Not at all,” he replied. ‘I 
myself.” 


asked Earl 


-_ 
at hus} 


Abbott, 
she said 


somewt 


Then she laughed 


"T) 


Ivanhoe,” 
don’t you, Ear] 
had a crush on Rower a, 
“Then vou do understand!” 

Earl nodded, but his nod was glum. ‘“‘I remember I van- 


soldierly 


said. “Straight, erect, slender, } 
wasn't that the sort of fellow he was?” 
“Yes,” said Polly 
“Have some more asparagus? 
fiercely. 
“Why!” exclaimed Polly,“ isn’t that Harvey Cameron? 
““Where?”’ 


hoe we = he 


“IT can see him now 
Earl 


asked, almost 


Earl nearly growled. 


descriptior 
man whose 
makes him 


Abbott set 


, Polly 
wit! 
ameron, a! 
cidal thought 
in coming 
“May I 
“Why,” Po 
Mr. ( 
thought it would be He 
“Waiter, 
sat down nonchalantly and 
‘‘We're almost through,” 
“Oh, I want only a bite,’ 
must 


ameron a ot wait 


was a mal 
another place at this tab 
scanned 

said har 
‘ ‘Ty 


Cameron. “I 


said H 


Keep my we iwht dowr know 


you 
ind 


t mix 


plumpness 


what 





I Made Them Bring Me"’ 


If he 


n like that wher 


looks at me 


says plumpneas, 
yuught Ear! Abbott 
strangle him 

u played spien- 
Saturday, 


ily said 


ut then 


were in 


Cameror 
his dinner before 

Abbott’s tor- 
paté de 


ligator- 


eyes 


fres! 
‘e cream 
beloved by Mr 
but barred 
lietary 
eme 

It was one of the 
neatest goals I 
" Mr. Cameron 
“Witl 
just a minute to go in 
the last chukker, |! 

shot the ball 7 


t reminds me, 


ever 
made 


was saying 


interrupted 

l, “that you and I 

had better shoot along 
to the theater.” 


**Ah,’” said 


a snow: 

‘One doesn’t go t 
a theater to dig 
clams,” said Earl 

“What are you go 
ing 
Mr 
turbably. 


to see?"’ aske 


Cameron imper- 





Lropic 


said 
* Hear 
rid though. WI 


A 


it’s pretty t 


Continued on 
Page 131 











QUARTET of menfolks loafed in the warm morning 
sun that flooded one of the kennel runs of the 
Glenmere Hunt Club, reading a paragraph in the 

latest issue of Dog Monthly. It must have been hot stuff, 
that paragraph, for young Mr. Becky de Havin, having 
finished it, scratched his pale blond head and expressed 
what to the general run of us would seem a most irrational 
desire. 

“T hope to kiss a pig!” said that young man; adding, 
with what appeared to be grudging admiration, “‘ Foxy 
Grandma!” 

“The Morrigu!” exploded K O Pat O’Boyle, without 
trace of admiration whatsoever, the Morrigu being a 
hideous old fury that hovered gloating over Irish battle- 
fields in ancient pagan days, shrieking glee at the downfall 
of good fighting men. 

What Mr. Slugs O’Boyle called the lady who, it seems, 
was author of this paragraph will not be here recorded. 
Mr. Slugs O’Boyle, known also in sporting circles as the 
Baiter, had not been honored with this extra title in addi- 
tion to his already adequate designation, Slugs, because 
his tongue dripped honey. Our Slugs was called the Baiter 
because his tongue dripped H,SO,, which will eat holes in 
any paper used for making magazines. 

The fourth gentleman ef our quartet, although perhaps 
more vitally interested than any of the others, made no 
observations upon the paragraph in question. He main- 
tained instead a characteristic silence. In lieu of com- 
ment, he looked wise, continuing to regard that copy of 
Dog Monthly with unwavering attention. They had their 
lapses, true, those three others; but sooner or later they 
would return to sanity again, upon which one of them was 
sure to crumple up the paper to a ball and throw it down 
the kennel run. 

A male quartet has often been facetiously described as 
three men and a tenor. We have always held that this 
description works a rank injustice upon the gentlemen of 
high register; for, though the usual naval lieutenant of 
light opera has a voice more suitable to Oxford-bag Ossip 
off the pickle yacht than to Dinty off the dreadnought, 
still there are tenors, and yet again tenors. And the real 
ones have voices that can swell from the sweetness of a 
reed pipe to the blare of a war trumpet, which latter makes 


















ig 

{ } 
A fp i 
{ (i; ‘ ; ; y 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 








the he-est music that there is. But, just the same, we 
cannot here resist the desire to assure the reader, if any, 
that our male quartet is male by at least 125 per cent. 
For the fourth member of it is the White Monarch of 
Glenmere. 

Glenmere White Monarch was a bulldog. Not may- 
be—bulldog. In the first place, he was by International 
Champion Goesright Monarch, out of Boadicea Mill- 
stone, which would be enough to tell a bulldog man. 
In the second place, he belonged to young Mr. A. Beck- 
with de Havin, III, which would tell you that he had 
cost enough to be the best bulldog obtainable, when 
purchased, even in case he wasn’t. In the third 
place, he was; for he had won both his cham- 
pionship and the grand special, best dog of the 
show, at his first appearance in the great Ax- 
minster Kennel Association classic. And in the 
last place, he had battled to a grim and bloody 
draw in that death pit, the dog pit, with Mc- 
Donald’s Grip, noblest of fighting dogs, making a 
tale of courage which has been attempted, but 
which would need the mighty pen of Carlyle for 
the proper telling. 

Glenmere White Monarch was no caricature 











August 14,1926 


By R.G. KIRK 


ILLUSTRATED BY ROBERT LL. DICKEY 








of give and take as 
had his’ brother. 
Mr. Slugs was a 
heavy; but Mr. 
Slugs had never 
scaled to any dizzy 
prominence in his 
chosen calling, due 
to the fact that he 
was a feather- 
weight from his 
ears due north. 
Mr. Slugs had ani- 
mal courage and 
one good punch, a 
left hook, close up, 
that could jar a 
man’s liver sick; 
and that about let 
him out. He could 
take it, too, to be 
sure; and he had, 
aplenty, as the con- 
dition of his ears 


of a dog. He was a dog. He was no squat, . a and brows unmis- 
misshapen, bandy-legged gargoyle. He was Lf? 4 takably attested. 


beautiful. No, to be sure, not beautiful like a 
collie or a borzoi or a chow, or like a Pekingese. 
Beautiful like a battleship. What a bulldog 
should be, the Monarch. A lively dog; not terrier-fast, but 
active; able to take his five miles back of Slugs O’Boyle and 
come in fresh, ears up and eyes bright with the good 
query, ‘‘What next?” A power-packed dog—such sheer 
brute strength per cubic inch of him that no breed in the 
world the least approaches it, unless the noble mastiff, 
which is perhaps, as some authorities think, not much 
else than a mastodonic bulldog. 

A beautiful dog, even to that terrific mug of his; that 
is, if you are one to see beauty in a steam shovel that can 
chew down a cliff or in a blast furnace that can rip asunder 
chemical unions that have existed since the earth’s rocks 
froze. And, even if you cannot see beauty in mere stark, 
relentless power, there are his eyes, which are soft and 

gentle and sweet; which are even a little sad, as 
though they pleaded, ‘“‘No. Not guilty. It’s all 
wrong, no matter what the paper said. Some 
mongrel bull cross, maybe; but no English bull- 
dog ever tore a child. Why, hang it, man, we dote 
on kids!” 

Speaking of Monarch’s activeness, we men- 
tioned road work. Five miles we stipulated, back 
of Slugs O’Boyle; not back of K O Pat. As he 
approached the peak of training, K O Pat did ten 

miles every morning, and not five, and 
did them at a pace that no bulldog could 
match. K O Pat 
was top spot in 
the lightweight 
world and had a 
mind to stay 
there. Mr. Slugs 
O’Boyle, how- 
ever, had no such 
position to main- 
tain in the world 


4 ' 
ial ly) , 
Fi hy itty Ny 3 





Borzoi, Made to Chase Man's Ancient Enemy, the Walf 





The Fourth Member of the Male Quartet is the 


But the ability to 
take it, a superb 
quality in itself, un- 
accompanied by a split-second coérdination for attack, or 
lacking that, by the wit to plan the other man’s undoing 
while in the process of absorbing what he’s got, has seldom 
produced more than mere mediocrity. 

One other asset Mr. O’Boyle, the major, hada line of 
vitriolic repartee while in there with the other member of 
the sock-and-get-socked guild which had been known to 
burn the rubber covering off the ring cables. It was calcu- 
lated to scorch through any opponent’s hide, however 
thick, and make him mad enough to rush in and rough it, 
roughing it being the slugger’s favorite dish. This skill 
with corrosive pleasantries had won more than one fight 
for Mr. O’Boyle which would have held nothing for him 
but the loser’s cut and an elegant beating had his opponent 
elected to stand off and keep sharpshooting instead of 
coming in to trade ’em. And so it was that Slugs, the 
heavyweight brother of Pat, the lightweight king, came 
by the added designation ‘‘ Baiter,’”’ and by the reputation 
of being one of the dirtiest fighters that ever pulled on a 
glove. 

But this reputation was all wrong. The Baiter’s lan- 
guage in the ring would have made a Christian out of the 
skipper of an Arab dhow; but that was merely the nearest 
that the slugging party’s narrow mental limitations ever 
let him come to ring craft. And it worked sometimes, at 
that. But Slugs, the Baiter, had never struck a foul blow 
in his life. He let all foulness off in speech, as many a man 
lets off an accumulation of petty mental pressures through 
the pop valve of profanity, so sparing much of pettiness 
toward his fellow man. Back of a face that one might 
prayerfully wish never to meet halfway across a bridge at 
night, Slugs O’Boyle hid a white man’s heart. To prove it, 
bulldogs worshiped him. 

For some strange and unfathomable reason, Baiter 
O’Boyle was the only man in the annals of bulldogdom 
who could rouse the short-nose breed to a vocal apprecia- 
tion of the genus homo. Bulldogs are silent dogs. They 
almost never use their voices except in disapproval. 
Months may go by without a word from them. Perhaps a 
low and gruff explosive ‘‘Wuff!’’ in dreams, or as a sum- 
mons, please, to let a fellow in; perhaps occasionally a 
weird and utterly ridiculous caterwaul, like unto no known 
animal sound, unless it be the whining of the whang- 
doodle, that is characteristic of bulldog anxiety, or that 
voices ludicrous unplumbed grief upon a temporary de- 
sertion by his folks. But seldom a good resounding canine 
bark. Seldom; but save you when he does! 

A sudden unfamiliar footstep on the porch as the family 
sits quietly reading of an evening—first contact with some 
unfamiliar thing, like, say, the vacuum sweeper’s ven- 
omous hiss, or from the piano top the nodding of a purple 
plume, where, as anybody with a grain of sense could tell 
you, no new bonnet should recline—anything, in fact, that 
with sanity or damfoolishness he disapproves, may bring 
suddenly a great head up from the rug beside the hearth, 
and suddenly a great breath-stopping roar up out of the 
shadow of the fireside chair—a challenge that would make 
the Minotaur hunt the smallest corner in the labyrinth. 


White Monarch of Glenmere 




















= 





































































Sturdy Skort Legs to Force His Hard Little Body Into Warrens 


But, in spite of this proverbial barklessness, at a word 
from Slugs O’Boyle, at a look or a gesture, at his mere 
presence, even, sometimes, any bulldog alive was likely to 
open his huge trap and burst into song, informing all and 
sundry with that total unreserve which marks a fox ter- 
rier’s approbation, and in a voice as subterranean as 
Pelée’s, that here was a gentleman, an athlete and a 
scholar, and that it was high time that a cockeyed world 
got hep to the fact. 

Mr. Slugs O’Boyle, the Baiter, had, in other words, a 
way with dogs. And this was well. For now that the slug- 
ger’s pugilistic star, whose apogee had never reached a 
point more than about five feet eleven above the resin box, 
was on the descendant, this way with dogs had opened up 
another equally congenial means of livelihood for him. 
Slugs was now kennel man for the Glenmere Hunt Club. 
Here he was well paid. Not only that, but because of his 
unparalleled success in the kennel management of the 
club's pack of foxhounds, further emoluments evolved. 
The hunt club members were a doggy crowd in general, 
and Slugs was given the job of conditioning many a high- 
bred animal for competition in various judging rings. 

Three members of our male quartet have now been in- 
troduced with what we hope is due formality. May we 
present then also Mr. Becky de Havin, whose bid for fame 
up to the present time rests upon the fact that he is the 
owner of the English bulldog, Champion Glenmere White 
Monarch, by Goesright Monarch, ex Boadicea Millstone? 
Mr. Becky de Havin, spare his blushes, is the scion of a 
wealthy and aristocratic family—a tall, slim, pale blond 
gentleman, as you see, whose nickname carries no hint of 
effeminacy to those acquainted with him. His nickname 
was wished upon him by his mother, who heartlessly 
risked the future peace of mind of her helpless little baby 
by parting his name in the middle with the cake-eating 
entitlement Beckwith. 

The baby had revenge, however, some twenty-nine 
years later, when at that period he decided to marry the 
girl with whom he happened to fall in love, a young lady 
famous in the possession of the loveliest slimness that ever 
slipped splashless into the water of a glass-fronted vaude- 
ville diving tank. You may remember her. You will if 
you ever saw her. She was the more slender of the two; 
the one who let about two bushels of blue-black Tipperary 
hair tumble down about her when she took off her rubber 
cap at the end of her act. Her name was Nora. The 
copper-haired one’s name was Kate. They were billed as 
the Kolananikau Sisters, if you will recall, but this was 
only to give a South Sea amphibian flavor to their turn, 
and to match up the Polynesian shade to which their 


But their real name was 
McDonald. And the only adequate description of 





dazzling flesh was tanned. 


Nora, the lady of Becky de Havin’'s choice, is to say 
that she was lovelier, if possible, than Kate— Kate, 
who was really Kate McDonald O’Boyle, wife of the 
famous Patrick of that name. Thus by roundabout 
was the luster of lightweight pugilistic honors re 
flected to the De Havin name, and thus was poor baby 
Beckwith’s revenge upon his mother made com 

plete. 
There were many other elderly ladies besides 
Becky de Havin’s mother who knew despair upon 
hearing that that young scapegrace had affianced 
himself to a famous vaudeville 
mermaid. They were for the most 
part ladies who had eligible daugh- 
ters and an eye on the De Havin 
\ coffers. And among these is to be 
numbered Mrs. Somner- 
Olkin, who was au- 
thoress of the paragraph 
in Dog Monthly which 
so perturbed our four. 

It is difficult to ex- 
plain, but the sport in 
which you'd naturally 
expect to see an exhibi- 
tion of the highest 
sportsmanship shows to 
a puzzled looker-on no 
such a thing. 

Dogs are such sport- 
ing people. You seldom 
see a big dog fight a 
little one. Sometimes, 
of course; but then there 
comes up the occasional 
unaccountable mucker 
amongst all folks, how- 
ever gently reared. And 
courteous! Full many 
the owner of a fine fight- 
ing terrier has been over- 
whelmed with momentary shame to see his comrade of a 
stroll tuck tail in ignominiously at some cur’s sudden sally 
through a gate or off a porch—only to have humiliation 
turn to laughing pride with realization that this unpro- 
voked attack was feminine. A feminine attack is always 
met by gentlemen with what in pit-dog parlance is a 
turn—must always be received on 
shoulder, not on fang. There are, of 
course, exceptions in this matter too. 
On rare occasions in the pit an Amazon 
is put down who claims to be a better 
warrior than any male. In 
which case, since she will share 
the male's last exclusive pleas- 
ure, that of fighting for fun, she 
must also die, as men dogs die. 

But dogs are sport- 
ing folks. Exceptions 
only try the rule. So 
it’s difficult to 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 17 






explain—the fact that few sports in the world present as 
many cases of poor sportsmanship as the game that has s« 
intimately to do with dogs; the game which should be one 
of the finest of all games — dog showing 

But watct The idge, a good, square fellow, places 
them one, two, three, reserve, accordingly as he sees them 
Maybe he’s wrong. He's human But, right or wrong 
how often do you see the red congratulate the blue? How 
often did you say? Congratulate the owner of a better dog 


than yours? A better dog than yours? Especially that 


button-eared monstrosity Better to take the gate with 
frigid dignity, showing thereby the calm disdain in which 
you hold the incompetence or worse that could so elevate 
mere mediocrity. You might also write a stinging para- 
graph or two about it to your favorite kennel paper. 
That's what Mrs. Somner-Olkin did. Mrs. S-O. possessed 
besides the eligible daughter and a saf 
whose contents unfortunate speculation had lately made 
sad inroads, some of the finest Russian wolfhounds in 
America, a snobbery to put to shame the genuine aristoc- 


e-deposit box upon 


racy of the noble breed of dogs she fancied, and controlling 
stock in her favorite kennel paper. And in that canine 
journal, this was the paragraph our male quartet was 
perusing with such interest: 


Chances are good for bulldogs to reps 
best-of-the-show t the Axminster K 
this year. Especially if conditions s} 
trasted with the beast has always beer 
defeat. Judges are male and human, and 
stray a bit from dog flesh when nationally fa 
the present scanty feminine mode gra 
nearly equal, who could blame ther 
the loveliest of handlers? 





a4 





Little wonder then that young A. Beckwith de Havin, 
III, desired to kiss a pig; or that Mr. K O Pat O'Boyle ex- 
claimed, ‘The Morrigu!"’ Or that his brother Slugs made 
comment which shall not be here repeated; or that the last 
gentleman of the quartet wished to see that copy of Dog 
Monthly crumpled into a ball and thrown down the kenne! 
run; for then, pursuing like a baby war tank, he could run 
it down, capture it, and, holding it between huge forepaws, 
chew it with a tremendous relish into shreds. 

For here was as shrewd a piece of deep-dyed villainy as 
the crossroads had ever witnessed. With one strategix 
move it put the judges for the coming show on trial—on 
guard; accused them of a weakness in their last year’s 


Continued on Page 40 

















Man, How He Showed, That Bulldog! The Spread of Him! The Heft of Him! The Trucutence of Himt 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





August 14,1926 


& JUNK SNUPPER 


By C. R. CLIFFORD 


The colonel an- 
swered the door, and 
he opened it he 
aw me and sprang 


k and exclaimed 


think they know 

antiques.” 
That’s true. 

Folks hear of the 





e deepest tones 
astonishment, 


horror and 










shim!” As 
on his knees 
I grabbed him by 
tI throat a l 





hed him against 
he easement of the 
door and muttered 
his face, “Die, 
villain!” And 
drawing my dagger 
plunged it to his 
eart. 

Ertract fram a pe nny 

dreadful of 1850 








BOUT the 
only sort 
of antique 

that never inter- 
ested the late Al- 
exander Drake, 
that prolific dean 
of American col- 
lectors, was the 
penny dreadful. 
Drake used to 
lunch at the AI- 
dine Club with 
Frank Stockton, 
Richard Watson 
Gilder and F. Hop- 
kinson Smith; 





extraordinary 
price that some 
article brings at 
auction and con- 
clude that they 
have the same 
thing and it is 
worth the sam 
price, but it isn’t. 


Rare Books 


tl take the 
case of the 
woman in Skeeho- 
kee who hasahigh- 
boy that looks 
identically like the 
highboy that 
brought $4000 at 
the Leverhulme 
Sale. In the first 
place, the Lever- 
hulme piece was a 
Leverhulme 
piece—part of a 
famous collection. 
That of itself 
boosted the price 
a little. In the 
next place, the 
auction house 








across at anear-by 
table were Lyman ee 
Abbott and the 

Appletons, all literary lights and active minds; but none 
with an imagination so vivid as ever to visualize the penny 
dreadful soaring to wild values of from five dollars to $100 
each, with collectors in hot pursuit. 

The penny dreadful was a flimsy pamphlet cheaply con- 
cocted for appetites that craved more of the gruesome and 
morbid in a crime case than the daily papers supplied. 

One of the best sellers of the early 80’s was, according to 
the title page, A Confession of the Awful and Bloody 
Transactions in the Life of Charles Wallace, the Fiendlike 
Murderer of Miss Mary Rogers, the Beautiful Cigar Girl of 
Broadway—the Marie Rogét of Edgar Allan Poe. 


The First Collection of Bottles 


HEN there was also The Thrilling Tale of the Brown 
- Murderess who assassinated her master and mistress 
and their four children. By comparison, the pictorial 
dailies and the yellow sheets of today are like hymnal lit- 
erature; the Beadle dime novels, mere lullaby jingles. 
When Charles Scribner, Roswell Smith and Doctor 
Holland started the Century Magazine in 1870, Alexander 
Drake became 
head of the art 
department 
and developed 
the broad field 
of wood en- 
graving, now 
an abandoned 
craft. First 
and last, 
Drake was an 
artist, a lover 
of the beauti- 
ful, and as a 
boy there was 
always one 
thing he 
wanted in his 
grandfather's 
house, and 
that was a lit- 
tle bottle, 
golden-green, 
glittering in 
its crude for- 
mation, an 
alluring 














Al Miniature Chair. Height 6\4 Inches 








spectacle to the child; it was what is known as the cornu- 
copia bottle; and finally when it was given to him, it 
started the first collection of American bottles ever made. 

Barber’s book on bottles was published in 1900, and the 
knowledge of the hand-blown bottle was so limited that it 
listed only eighty-six types; but in twenty-five years 
bottle collectors have ransacked every attic and cellar in 
America, and today there’s a record of more than 800 down 
to the last half of the nineteenth century, 
when they began making bottles by ma- 
chinery; and so lively is the competition 
among bottle collectors that prices have 
gone a flying. 

Ten years ago I paid twenty-eight 
dollars for the Booze bottle of 1840, 
sometimes called the Log Cabin bottle, 
and thought it was top price; since 
then, I have seen it sell at auction, fre- 
quently at prices ranging between 
eighty-five and $100. 

Yesterday I saw a bottle known as 
the Bunch of Grapes bottle, a flask 
having grapes blown in on one side. 
Most collectors have this bottle in 
the pale-green, but some glass blower 
indulged a fancy for doing it in blue, 
and produced the most gorgeous col- 
oring—like the blue of old Bristol 
and as a consequence the bottle is held 
by the dealer at $150. 

But the prize of them all, to my 
mind, is the Locomotive bottle sold 
recently for $200. It’s of pinkish tint, 
depicting on the one side the first loco- 
motive and on the reverse Columbia. 

Time was when people wondered at the personality of 
the man Drake, who also collected bandboxes. Why in the 
world should a man collect bandboxes? It was the color 
work of the crudely printed wall papers covering the band- 
boxes which interested him. As a craftsman he appreciated 
these primitives in printing. He collected the bandboxes 
simply as a medium of expression; and today even the art 
museums value in the highest degree these charming old- 
time wall papers, and we pay big prices to transfer them 
from old houses to new. 

The town constable had come in from a scouting trip up 
in Vermont. “I tell you,” says he, “it’s getting harder 
every day to do business with folks. They’ve got such 
crazy ideas of values, particularly them that’s read and 





and Removed to a New Life and Environment, a Reincarnation" 






An Earty and Rare Type of Cotonial 
Chair (1630' Known as the John Harvard 


spent $41,000 in 
the preparation 
and distribution of the catalogues bringing together an 
enthusiastic gathering of bidders. Furthermore, it cost 
$63,000 just for packing and shipping the collection to the 
United States, and $7300 for insurance; now deducting ail 
these, plus minor expenses and selling commissions, that 
highboy netted about 20 per cent less than the $4000. 

“And there is another point,” says the constable. ‘“‘The 
probability is that the Skeehokee piece is nothing like the 
Leverhulme piece. It prob- 
ably lacks the fine points, or it 
is likely to be a mere reproduc- 
tion and not old at all. It costs 
something to get the big prices 
at auction. Why, bless you, it 
took the experts four months 
merely to catalogue the Mor- 
gan Collection.” 

Some auction houses put a 
fixed charge of 20 per cent on 
the sale of anything, which 
covers all expenses. 

So you see that the Skeeho- 
kee lady would be lucky to get 
$3200 for a similar piece. 

“Pardon the digression,”’ 
says the man from Boston “ but 
if you want to get in with the 
real money, join the book col- 
lectors like Morgan, Henry 
Huntington, H. Jones, H. C. 
Folger, Carl Pforzheimer, W. A 
White— collectors of that class. 
Up at the New York Public 
Library the Lenox copy of the 
Gutenberg Bible—the first 
book ever printed from movable type—was bought by Mr 
Lenox in 1847, for $2500. Ata later date Mrs. Huntington 
paid $50,000 for a similar copy, and recently the Melk 
copy brought $106,000; but that is not all. Inside of six 
weeks the same copy sold to Mrs. Edward S. Harkness for 
$120,000, and will be presented by her to Yale University 
as a memorial to her mother-in-law, Mrs. Stephen V. 
Harkness.” 

Values are difficult to determine. 

There are rugs right now knocking around the interiors 
of our American homes which in a few years will be price- 
less, because no longer made. It is already difficult to find 
any of the early Daghestans, Chichis or Derbents of the 
Caucasus. The Ladiks of Turkey have been out of the 





ae 






















— - 


a = 


i, 3 
; 


















































’ 























industry in the Far East. 


these contract manufacturers 


native types. 


Down in South Carolina last winter a gentleman on the 
board of trade of a typical Southern town said to me: 


A Cabinet From a 


Collection of Minia+« 


ture Furniture, 7\%4 
Inches High 


trous black, decorated with a highly illuminated picture 


¢ 


looked like appliqué. 
the scissors where the picture had 
been cut out of something, and yet 
the surface of the vase was perfectly 
smooth. And then I looked within, 
and the trick was obvious. It was 
simply uncolored glass with the pic- 
ture pasted upon the interior and 
then the whole inside painted black. 


Out of the Past 


THINK Miss Kirkwood detected 

a bit of disappointment in my 
attitude, but I tried to show inter- 
est, and then spoke of bottles, ex- 
plaining that I was a collector and 
describing the sort of bottles that 
I meant. 

“Oh, yes.” And her face lighted 
up; she'd heard of a bottle that had 
General Lee’s portrait on it and 
she'd heard of another bottle that 
depicted Fort McHenry, both new 
subjects tome. She didn’t know of 
their whereabouts, but she thought 
it quite likely that some of them 
might be still found in the negro 
cabins, and she called an old darky 
over to her and explained the sub- 
ject fully. 

‘Have you ever seen any of these 
bottles, Rastus?”’ says she. 

‘Well, Missy Nancy,” said he 
with great deliberation, ‘‘Ise seen 
a lot of dem bortles, not lately, but 
Ise seen "em; and Ise not suah but 
you might find some out at de 
graveyard. You know, up North 
when a pusson dies, you white folks, 
you put flowers on de grave, but 
down South yere, in a cullud fam’ly, 
when someone dies we put anything 
beau’ful on de grave, lak a china 
vase or anything dat looks good 
sometimes bortles—and you lak as 
not to find what you want if you 
just around out dere in the 
cem'tery.” 

3ut,’’ says I, “I imagine that 
anything particularly good wouldn't 
stay there very long.”’ 

“No, sar, dat’s a 
Rastus. ‘But what 
do is to get dere first.” 


look 


fact,” 
you want to 


Says 


market for years; so also Bergamas and Kulahs. 
are rare; old Kirmans and Ispahans are mere memories. 

The situation is due to the commercializing of the rug 
American and English capital 
has gone into Persia and Turkey, 
have 
weavers have been attracted by regular wages and have 
quit individual work, almost eliminating the production of 


of children rolling hoop in a wonderful garden, the vivid 
colorings standing out upon what appeared to be an over- 
glazed black background, but upon close inspection it 
You could almost see the marks of 


THE SATURDAY 


Things worth while are 
not easily found; never- 
theless, every household 
some enthusiastic 
member investigating 
with all seriousness. 

Future generations will 
be better posted than we 
have been, not only by 
the benefit of literature 
that the early collectors 


Sennas 


has 
and the activities of 


been so great that 


“As 
long as you are inter- 
ested in antiques, I ad- 


never possessed, but by 
the benefit of museums, 


vise you to see the of great patriotic move- 
extraordinary glass ments like that of Valley 
vases out at Miss Forge, where there are 
Nancy Kirkwood’s vast collections indis- 
place. They were on  pensable tothe student 
exhibition at the last Indian relics, historical 
statefairandattracted documents, china, 
a great deal of atten- stamps, glassware 


tion—most beautiful 
things you ever saw. 
Guess they are a lost 


It’s one of the many won- 
der spots arising all over the country 
the victory of America’s struggles for | 
There is a museum in New York cal 
So I called on Miss the City of New York. 
Kirkwood—which is_ it. It’s a city museum and goes back t 
not the lady’s name 
and saw the vases, and 
I don’t wonder they 
perplexed the inex- 
perienced. They were 
glass all right, eighteen 
inches tall, and of lus- 


four dollars. Here will be seen models 
Half Moon and old clipper ships and ar 


everything else 
imaginable that went into the develoy 
social and industrial progress 
paradise. 

London has a similar museum, fille¢ 
the past, with models of her ancient 


a verite 


centuries, 











EVENING POST 


Precious few people ever 
, 
r 


Fulton’s Clermont, built in the age of steam 
clothes, kitchen implements, everything 











Three of a Set of Eight Chairs That Sold for $15,000 at Auction 


Paris has the 


shrines sacred to 


1uman | 


berty 


led the Museum of _ huddle of huts 
heard of fourth century, 
0 1626, when Man- home of the 


hattan Island was purchased from the Indians for twenty 


of Henry Hudsor 's 


f > } r 
niniature of Robert 


And there's 


ment of the city’s 


M usée Carnavalet, which s} 


Its relics carry 


when Paris 


of the French capital in the time of Julius ¢ 


ows the history 

#sar—a mer 
you through the city of the 
was the 


1! 7 , 
then called Lutetia 


Emperor Julian. 


All Kinds of Money 


jp MY mind, the most extraordinary 
collections is embraced in the Zerbe collec 


which covers all ages and every political and geographical 


of all Americana 


tion of money, 


able junk snupper’s — section of the world, being particularly strong in the money 


of early 


1 with the relies of 
buildings, and al] 


from the use of the Spanish reals 





4 


ake I Rercuu 








Chantry House, Essex, Engtand, Claimed as the Seat 





of the Mayflower Exodus, 1620 


twenty-fiv 


‘ 





America 

If we go out to the 
to hear of bits 
manner of reminders of the customs and habits of past _ bits, 











Pacific Coast, it is a 


commor t} , 


they speak of a thing being worth tw 
cents; four bits, fifty cents ame 
pieces of eight — having 
a value of one dollar: anda bit wa 
an eighth, or 12.5 cents 
The first coinags America was 





the pine-tree shilling, earlier 





eral years than the New England 
shilling, and earlier by forty years 
than the first paper money made in 
Massachusetts. In the early days of 
America the medium of exchange 
the wampum of the 


In Virginia it was tobacco 


was frequently 
Indians 
Paper money came into use in the 
] enforced 


1690, and it is in- 


colonies from its use in 
Massachusetts in 
Philadel 


without 


teresting to note that ir 


nhia checks were made out 


' 
mention of any bank, starting with 


‘Cashier of the hank; please pay to 

the order of * because there was 

only one bank in Philadelphia 
The most valuable of all Amer 


ican coins is the 1804 silver dollar 
The existence of this coin is fre 
quently denied. ! wiil admit that 


there were no dollars coined by the 
United States Gov 
1803 to 1836 Ne 


record that at 


ernment from 


vertheless, it is of 


some time prob abiy 


1836. s made with 


Why, I 


Nobody knows, but it 


, 11) 
iver adolars were 


1804 stamped on them 


“a ] ‘ 
don't know 


was done. Several collectors have 
specimens There is one in the 
Smithsonian Institution. One was 


taken out of the vault of the Chase 
National York 
shown to me J. W. Ellsworth paid 


Bank in New and 


$3600 fora specimen. Another sold 











for $2500. It is the one big value 
in American numismatics 

The 1650 New England shilling 
can be bought for $100 and the pine 
tree s| ng for considerably less 
pos te a irs 

T) American collect of 
Zerbe’s has {0000 varieties 
greater number than t Brit 
Museum; it represents forty ye 
of patient wo nd includes every 
thing imaginable—coins of the 
Bible t! shekel, the triput 
penny and the sma! tcou the 
world —the four-cent coin of Indi 

Continued on Page 137) 


20 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


PORARY MUIULLIOQNAL 


le! 


They Played Bridge — Marjorie and Mell Cutting 
for Partners 


HE office was new. The suite was new. Indeed, for 

that matter, the building was new, still smelling of 

plaster in the halls—one of those skyscrapers shaped 
at the top like a stepladder so that—it might be fancied— 
the geds of mammon might step to the roof from time to 
time and try to grasp that “straddling lobster of the sky, 
ere he lay split upon the plate of evening.”” By which the 
sun is meant, 

But it isn’t with the sun that we wish to concern our- 
selves at the moment when our story opens; nor yet with 
the building; nor yet with the suite of offices on the twenty- 
first floor whose entrance door had lately been lettered 
“Melvin J. MacCloud,” without any further information 
whatsoever. 

So, coming back to the room from which we started— 
the same being Mr. MacCloud’s private office—we re- 
peat that it was new. The rugs on the floor—they, too, 
were new—-and the soft leather chairs, and the mahogany 
desk which had a top as large as the dancing space in 
many a Broadway cabaret on New Year’s Eve. Yet, 
nola bene, if you please, there was one thing in the room 
which wasn't new, one item which showed quite plainly the 
thumb marks and memoranda of time—an experienced old 
piece which might have gone back to the Stuarts, a rugged 
old article with something splintery about it too. This was 
Melvin J. MacCloud himself, seated at the mahogany desk 
aforesaid and reading a letter which he had already read 
twice before. 

**M'm,” said he at last. Which isn’t much if you read it 
quickly, but you'd be surprised at the things it meant, the 
way old M. J. said it. 

He turned then and looked at the two pieces of baggage 
which lay by the side of his desk—two noble bags of pig- 
skin bearing the Wanted labels of a transatlantic line. 
The blanks on the labels had been filled in: “Stateroom 
C12, Steamship Patrician,’”’ and the date was the same as 
that on the day calendar which lay upon the desk by the 
side of the inkwell. 

Indeed, rising from his chair and walking to the window, 
Mr. MacCloud looked almost directly down upon the 
shore line of the North River to where the funnels of the 
Patrician were forming vague feathers of smoke. She 
was tosail at noon; and, glancing at his watch, M. J. per- 
ceived that it was already half-past eleven. 

““M'm,” he repeated. “I may surpr-r-rise them.” 

And suddenly returning to his desk, he pushed a button, 
it again, when the door quietly 


and was about to push 


opened and a tall young man stepped in—a quiet young 


Westom 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
BARTOW V. V. MATTESON 


man with blue eyes and hair which 
was inclined to be curly. And if 
he was blushing a little, this may 
have been due to the fact that 
just before his bell had rung, he had 

been writing the following unbusinesslike lines on one of 

M. J.’s letterheads: 

““ANGELA’S VIGIL, Act III 

Same setting as Act I) 

“Curtain rises on darkened stage. Moonbeam through 
window falls on Angela sitting in chair by side of fireplace. 
She has fallen asleep in her vigil. The room is still in dis- 
order, and her face looks pale in the moonlight. Through the 
broken window a clock is heard, slowly striking three. Angela 
stirs, but does not awaken. She gently moans and her hand 
unconsciously rises to her bosom.” 


He had just written the word “bosom” and was thinking 
to himself, ‘‘ Not quite like Barrie,’ when his bell rang. Is 
it any wonder that this young man blushed a little as he 
looked down at M. J.’s frowning brow? 


im 
HEY looked at each other—the old man and the 
young—in one of those exchanges of glances with which 
youth and experience have probably regarded each other 
since the dawn of the human race; and if you had been 
there—invisible, mind you, and saying nothing—it might 
have struck you that Mr. MacCloud didn’t altogether ap- 
prove of this tall young 
nephew of his who was 
standing there so quietly 
and yet so full of color, 
his hands behind him and 
his left leg slightly ad- 
vanced. 
“Has Mr. Ingalls left 
yet?” asked old M. J. 
“Yes, sir,”’ replied the 
young man. “He left 
soon after he said 
good-by—I believe to 
look at that house in 
Englewood which he’s 
thinking of buying.” 
“IT understand the cir- 
cumstances,” said the 
other dryly. “But did 
he say when he expected 
to return?” 
“At three o'clock,” the 
young man answered. 
‘‘A pity,’ said Mr. 
MacCloud. “A gr-r-reat 
pity.” He might have 
relapsed into frowning 
silence then— a thing he 
liked to do—if the siren 


August 14,1926 


of a steamer in the river hadn't recalled 
him. “Sit down, Melvin,” he said then 
in a kindlier voice. “I’d have _pre- 
ferred Mr. Ingalls—he’s been with me 
so many years that we understand each 
but it may be that you will answer nearly as 


other 
well as he would 

“Yes, sir,”’ said the young man, taking the visitor’s chair 
with a graceful ease which didn’t escape the older man’s 
attention. 

“There’s a line in the classics, as you with your expen- 
sive education probably know,” continued Mr. MacCloud, 
his frown appearing again: ‘‘‘ Uneasy lies the head that 
wears a cr-r-rown.’ And when I came on from the West 
last month, with the working control of the Narragansett 
Copper Company in my pocket, I more than expected a 
good sharp tussle in the East here before the question of 
sovereignty was finally settled. And now I find’’—he 
glanced at the letter—‘“‘that hostilities are to open tomor- 
row, at a time when everybody expects that I shall be on 
the broad Atlantic, unable to look after myself as well as I 
might if I were here ashore.” 

“Yes, sir,” said the young man, more in answer to the 
older man’s look than to any interrogation in his voice. 
“T think I understand.” 

“I’m glad you do,” said the other dryly. ‘It reflects 
great credit upon your powers of observation. And under- 
standing that, you'll probably also understand this: That 
it would be a disconcerting piece of strategy on my part if I 
allowed my opponents to think that I had sailed on the 
Patrician, only to turn up here when least expected and 
give them all the fight they’re looking for.” 

A touch of deeper brown had appeared upon his cheek 
bones, and he walked to the window—a scarred old warrior 
already sniffing the battle from afar. From the distance 
you might have fancied yourself hearing the skirl of bag- 
pipes, striking up a martial air of which many a man would 
never live to hear the chorus. 

“Fortunately, as it happens,”’ continued Mr. MacCloud, 
returning to his desk and breathing a bit hard, “I am little 
known in the East—as yet. In a year from now, say, when 
I stand in relation to copper as Mr. Carnegie once stood in 
relation to steel, it would be well-nigh impossible for any- 
one to sail in my place. But at the present time I should 
say there would be no particular difficulty in having a 
younger man occupy my stateroom—that is, of course, if he 
kept to his stateroom throughout the voyage on the pre- 
tense of being sick. By this time, I take it, you under- 
stand the point which I've been driving at for the last 
few minutes?” 

“You mean that I’m to take your place upon the Patri- 
cian?” said the young man, trying not to show how much 
the prospect pleased him. 

“Aye,” said the other, with a dryness now so perfect 
that it seemed to have crust upon it. “And keep to your 
room—or rather my room—all the way across.” 

“But what aboutapassport? Isthere time?’ 

“You'll have to travel on mine,” the 
other. ‘Fortunately, the names are the same. 
Of course you'll not be able to land, either at 
Cherbourg or Southampton, but there’s no 
particular harm in that, as you'll come right 
back on the Patrician in any event.” 

Still looking at each 
other—Youth and Experi- 
ence—they seemed to draw 
a deep breath together. 

I needn't 


’ 


said 


“The baggage 
tell you to be careful of 
that,’’ continued the older 
man with a look of regret at 
the handsome new pieces by 
the side of his desk; ‘‘and 
you'll only use such articles 
of wearing apparel as may be 
strictly necessary. I shall go 
on the ship with you and 
maybe have a photograph 
taken by the reporters 
‘Melvin J. MacCloud, the 
New Copper King, Sails for 


“ 


"Ave You Gone and 'Urt 
Your Ankle?" 











Europe’—a fine bit of wool for someone's observant eyes; 
and then when nobody's looking, I'll just slip down the 
steerage gangway and you'll shut yourself in your state- 
room. And there you are, all snug for the round trip. a 
temporary millionaire, with never a care in the 
worry you.” 


“a 


world to 


Except money,” said the young man, the 
ing on his cheeks again. 
** Ah, well, I won't begrudge you a few 


color appear- 


hundred dollars 


under the circumstances,”’ agreed the other, after a per- 
ceptible interval of thought. ‘And another thousand dol 
lars, say, by way of a bonus, if the project should turn out 
to be successful. 
And now,” he continued, looking at his watcl 


think we'd better get started; and I'll give you what papers 


Of course you'll keep a strict account. 
again, “I 
and —and what money you need on our way to the boat 

i To be twenty-two on a fine June Wednesday morning; 
i to be a temporary millionaire, starting out on a three 
weeks’ unexpected holiday over the ocean and back a 
holiday already tinged with mystery and excitement; to 
have five hundred dollars presently presented in a taxi- 
cab to cover inci- 
dental expenses; to 
have another thou- 
sand dollarscoming 
to you; to board 
first steamer 
and almost have to 





} 
‘ 
; 


| 
} 
| 
; 


" push your way 

\\ through laughing, 
’ chatting groups of 
aK) charm and beauty; 
, to see your first 
4 steward; to hear 


your 


your first ship’s ‘ 
bell; to catch your 

first whiff of that 

unmistakable tang , 

which is known 


—— 


} 1 only to those who 
Al go down to the 
T great deep—could 
I even a budding 


playwright, with all 
Hy), his fancies, have 
dreamed of the 





_— 


mi start of a happier 
{ adventure than 
, that? 
Ly mi 
W AFTER his uncle 
\) had left him 

} a parting which 
a wasn’t accom- 


plished without many a frowning, many a 
solemn admonition —the first thing that Mell 
did was to take a good look at the stateroom 
which was to be his home for the next seven 
days. 
! And, indeed, it was astateroom well worth 
looking at, with its paneling and its chintzes, 
its lamps and its cupboards, its desk beneath 
the window and its curtained alcove concealing a regular 
bed. Exploring the doors, he came to one which opened 


——— = 


—— = 


— =. 


into a bathroom, tiled and porcelained in spotless splendor, 
| its fittings like silver still warm from the polishing wheel 
) “The old boy was doing it well,”’ thought Mell, closing 
i the door and looking around the stateroom again. ‘‘The 
\ New Copper King Sails for Europe’—it calls for a proper 
j setting. He might have thought of seeing the reporters in 
here, or of entertaining company going over. Yes, and the 
| room's big enough too. You could easily get four people at 
this table.” 
| He went to the window over the desk then 
Il hole, but a good square window of inch-thick glass 
\ overlooked the promenade deck; and there he parted the 
curtains, and kneeling upon the desk, he looked out at his 
fellow voyagers who were leaning over the rail, shouting 
Behind 
these railbirds, other passengers were already walking up 
and down the deck, some stolid, some even looking slightly 
bored; but most of them moving with that subdued excite- 
ment which comes to nearly everyone on shipboard when 


not a port- 
which 


farewells to those who had come to see them off. 


the warning bell has sent the visitors ashore. 
Paris— Europe Mell found himself 
“T only wish I had money 


“London 
thinking with a touch of envy. 
enough to go wherever I liked!’ 

Two middle-aged males came walking along the deck to- 
gether. 

It seemed to Mell, always on the lookout for characters 
in these prospective dramas by which some day he hoped 
to be known as the American Barrie, that though these two 


approaching passengers might have passed for stage hands, 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 































or even for supers, neither of them would have heen con- lent f her eves wh made m think of 















































sciously cast for any important part and there wi mething in! : rming ittie 
‘But they know how to make money or t wo t vagger wi eemed ne A east he ft 
be here,”” he mused; and then he scoffed at himself a bit never noticed a er gir 
**And look at me~— with my exper e education!” But he ““A queen!" thought M« / t pernay me 
stopped offing as three happy gi ame trip] ) tant echo of the . , ea 
the deck walked past him “And here , ustened 
“Their fathers made it, too,” continued Me to himself tr and can t ever now ! 
““Somebody in the family, at any rate. And all these shiy He imagined her as the heroine of Angela’s Vig deme 
that go out every week, they're simply crowded with peo- warmed the part e sunsnine He atts SEN er f 
ple who have learned the trick of making mone But me ened at the daw g f Act I i sex rugs 
I've got to} in here <e a dunce in a corner who hasn't to free herself from the whiet ere Be ew 
been able to , his lesson right!”’ winding around her . It might have been the ir 
As you can see, our temporary millionaire was growing tensity of Mell's glance which drew t g eye to } 
slightly bitter, dosing himself with that spiritual quinine window 
which ometimes good for the soul At any rate he looked at him, sn g the while at 
“Here comes a good-looking old boy,”’ he more cheer mething which the stately soldier wa tying to her. ‘ 
fully interrupted himself. ‘‘ Now if there were more lik« course Mell shouldn't have done it ndeed, at first 
hin . didn't know that he was smiling back at her, a certain slow 
It was a martial-looking, elderly gentleman who had at and solemn smile which comes only f serious nature 
tracted Mell’s eye very sold er thir ind po from young men, say who hope In tir » be known as the 
sessed of the art of wearing American Barrie; but at least he knew that the gir id 
his clothes with distinctior den}, turned her eyes ba k to the ger her cheeks the 
Hewas carrying hisstraw hat olor of two es of one of Mr. ( ‘ Egyptia 
under his arm, and althoug heet 
} hair wasn’t far from he “O} f I didn’t have to sta : ere!” ¢ ight Me 
ng white, hiseyebrows might with something like a groar ] about inspiration! 
Why. there more inspiration on tt nif 
His reflections were drowned by the foghorn and a sud 
den crescendo of farewell from those at the rail. Gradually 





an almost im pe reeptible tremor ran t the ship; and 
inch by inch at first, and then with ig speed, tl 
Patrician majestically backed out of he io und turned 
her questing bowsprit toward the sea. 
Iv 

HEY were hardly straightened out the river when i 

steward knocked and entered, a bright old i dog wit! 
a rosy nose which looked as though it shone at night to I 


the other shipping know it was coming 
“Mr. MacCloud he asked 
bit pr led 





said « 


“Yes,” ur temporary 
coming down off the desk wit! 
nity as the length of his legs permitted 
‘Il beg your pardon, sir 





Nose: “‘ but you had 


of vourr aboard ves 


enw 








thing was comfortable 
' 
] t in mind 
that you were an 


ler gentleman.”’ 


That would My 


, . 

ingaiis thought 

ag 

if trying to look 
o.d as he possi 


ould “He 


ine was coming 



















My r me's 
(y ont ued 
the tewarda 
r ‘*‘Never 
VM nd f eT 
i \ bit of 
Y ou'il under 
d, and ‘oping 
\ pardon the 
iibert V & & 
To be a Temporary Mil« ¢ | l 
lionaire; to Board Your Me } ( mat , ¢ 
First Steamerand Almost . d 4 
Have to Push Your Way m _— . 
Through Laughing, Chat her ' youd et give n . 
ting Groups of Charm and Beauty—Could Even a Budding Playwright, With All your § Keé r mM in} 4 
His Fancies, Have Dreamed of the Start of a Happier Adventure Than That? vo if { iv ‘ 1 re 
on aect 
have reminded you of dark wings. His nose, too, had some “No; never mind,” said Mell, somewhat hurried 
thing birdlike about it, something beaky and remindful of And after a pause, he added I have some lette nt 
the hawk—a commanding feature somewhat softened by and | don't expect to get out on deck for some little time 
the drooping mustache below. yet.” 
**A general, perhaps,’’ thought Mell, unconsciously cast- Some letters to go off with the pilot, you me 
ing him. ‘‘‘Some stately soldier freed from war's alarms.’"’ asked the steward 
Again he stopped, his glance turning to the girl who was ye Cag 
walking by the general's side—a dark, radiant, dimpled “Then I'll call around in ‘alf an hour and get them 
young angel who might have been having her first sure you.” 
glimpse of paradise. But it wasn't altogether her celestial He vanished on that, and thinking it ‘ s he might 
attributes which made the young man at the window open have thought over a problem of plet Angela \I 
the curtains a little wider. Still unconsciously perhaps, he didn't altogether like it 
was attracted by a certain promise of sauciness in the pro “A wise old character e told himself wit 
file of her nose—which reminded him of youthful pictures look. “It isn’t going to be easy to ill the way 
of Ellen Terry—a certain promise of tenderness in the across.” Continued on Page I 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


POLIT. 


H-HA!’’ 
bellowed 
Orifice 

R. Latimer, 
president of the 
Midnight Pic- 
tures Corpora- 
tion, Inc., of 
Birmingham, 
Alabama. ‘‘So 
it’s you, is it?” 

Director J. 
Cesar Clump 
bent his slender 
figure at the waist 
and flashed his 
chief a genial 
gold-toothed 
smile. 

“Yes, Orifice, 
me.” 

That good-humored 
expansion of the lips 
came near to proving 
Mr. Latimer’s undoing. 
He opened his lips to 
speak and succeeded 
only in spluttering. He 
waved two pudgy fists, 
then tore at the striped 
collar of his glorious 
shirt. After which he 

waddled to the window and stood looking down upon the 

Piazza Amedeo with eyes which were glazed by futile fury. 

Through that window there was wafted to J. Cesar 
Clump, and to the third occupant of the room—one Wel- 
ford Potts, star extraordinary of the two-reel drama—the 
balmy but definitely perfumed air of Naples. There en- 
tered, too, the cacophony of Neapolitan street noises, pre- 
dominated by the incessant squeaking of automobile sirens 
which sounded like tin horns blown by small boys slightly 
afflicted with sore throat. 

It was, however, a glorious day; a day to incite poets 
to rhythmic and flowing verses wherein spring rimes with 
sing and flowers with bowers. The sapphire waters of the 
bay shimmered in the sunlight; fishermen caroled gayly 
as they cast their nets for small octopuses and other pisca- 
torial delicacies; children played in the streets, and hoarse- 
voiced guides could be heard soliciting trade from casual 
tourists who had wandered inland from the Via Caracciolo. 

But all the soothing beauty of this Italian December day 
was lost upon President Latimer. That Gar- 
gantuan gentleman looked into the sunshine and 
saw the lowering clouds of disaster; his eye 
lighted upon the crest of Vesuvius and he visu- 
alized Pompeii with his motion-picture organi- 
zation cast in the réle of the Last Days. And 
eventually, because his emotions had been 
dammed up too long, he swung again on the 
unsuspecting chief of his directorial staff and 
loosed a splatter of words. 

“Sholy, it’s you! Who else would it be 
hangin’ ‘round where they ain't nothin’ doin’ but 
Where you reckon we is at, huh? I 
know, Cwsar 
Clump, where is we at?” 

“Naples,” returned the 
blithesome. director. 


it’s 


He Onty Knew 
That He Waited 
an Unhappy and Interminable 
Time for the Return of J. Caesar 


pleasure? 


requests to 


‘Tha’s in Italy.” 

“Italy! Twenty-one of 
us is in Italy. An’ we has 
been in Italy two weeks 
a’ready. What you reckon 
we come heah fo’ 
tion?’’ 

It was beginning to dawn 


a& Vaca- 


on Cesar Clump that his 
chief was not exactly tran- 
quil 
“Shuh! Orifice, decom- 
pose yo’se’f. I is gittin’ 
my bearin’s.”’ 
‘*Bearin’s! 
Will you listen? 


goshness, Miss Agnes, how 


Bearin’s! 


Goodness 


long does it take you to git 


bearin’s—an’ how 


them 


By Octavus Roy Cohen 


ILLUSTRATED Br TONY SARG 
much cash money is they gwine be wuth after you gits ‘em? 
I brung you over heah to git pitchers, not bearin’s. I 
craves pitchers! Pitchers! You heah me? How much you 
reckon it’s costin’ us to keep twenty-one cullud pussons 
livin’ in this hotel while you strolls aroun’ gittin’ bearin’s? 
How long you reckon it’s gwine be befo’ us ain't able to 
use them bearin’s after you git ’em on account we ain't 
got no money?” 

Amazement, strongly tinctured with indignation, was 
welling in the breast of Director Julius Cesar Clump. ‘‘I 
can’t do ev’ything,”’ he defended. 

“No, suttinly you can’t. You can’t do nothin’—an’ you 
has done it ever since we gotten off that ship.” 

“Why don’t somebody else do somethin’? 
Swain would gimme a story to work on ——’”’ 

““Wha’s Forcep Swain? What's he, huh? 
nothin’ but an author, is he?” 

Tota.” 

“Well, authors ain’t s’posed to think of stories, is they? 
They’s s’posed to write ’em. It’s yo’ job to think of the 
story, ’stead of runnin’ aroun’ gittin’ bearin’s. I tell you, 
Mistuh Clump, us is goin’ bankrupt so fast us is gwine 
have to walk clear back to Bumminham. Outside of that 
pitcher us tooken on the ship, we ain’t got ary shot sense 
we lef’ New Yawk. An’ I demands to know 
how come.” 

“T can’t git started,’’ explained Clump. 

“**Tain't easy when you has just landed. I has 
been walkin’ aroun’ lookin’ at locations an’ 
also gittin’ a license to take pitchers in the 
streets.” 

“Yeh! An’ I guess in another week you'll 
be wantin’ to send that license to our dis- 
tributors an’ suggest that they show it in the 
hund’ed an’ seventy fust-run houses where 
Midnight Pitchers is exhibitin’. I reckon 
tha’s what you is gwine be doin’, ain't it?” 

“No, it ain't,” returned Clump with frigid 
hauteur. ‘‘An’ one mo’ 
thing I informs you, Mistuh 
Latimer—bein’ bawled out 
by a big fat ol’ frog like 
you ain't the fondest thing 
I is of!” 

Orifice clung to 
the border of 


If Forcep 


He ain’t 


The Baby Was 


August 14,1926 


SCREA 


apoplexy. Worry was shot through with helpless 
anger. Only that morning he had busied him- 
self with pencil and paper and discovered that 
the overhead was terrific. 

Two weeks previously twenty-one colored persons, com- 
prising a complete double unit of The Midnight Pictures 
Corporation, Inc., manufacturers of two-reel slapstick 
comedies, had left ship in Naples prepared to revolutionize 
the high-speed comedy situation by taking excruciating 
pictures against Old World backgrounds. And so far not 
a camera crank had been turned, not a foot of film utilized, 
not a single gesture of potential income made by any 
member of the troupe. Wherefore President Latimer had 
turned upon his most bosom friend and chiefest executive, 
Director Clump, as a person naturally and primarily 
responsible. 

“An’ has you got any idea,”’ he inquired with cutting 
sarcasm, “‘when you finishes collectin’ bearin’s an’ starts 


shootin’?”’ 





Being Kidnaped, and 


There Started Up That Narrow, Picture 
esque Street Ladies, Children, Goats and 


Dogs, 
and Falling, 


Yelling, Gesticulating, Leaping 
Welford Leading the Way 































\ 
















“Pff!’’ Clump was now as angry as his chief. “ Right 
now if you feels that way about it.”’ 

“That way! Sufferin’ tripe! I feels wuss than that 
way. I feels 

“Like sendin’ second-rate pitchers back to America 
when they is lookin’ fo’ comedy classics?”’ 

“Us is the comedy classics! What they is lookin’ fo’ is 
pitchers—an’ pitchers we has got to have. I want 
action x 

“Well, whose fault is it we ain't done nothin’? Has you 
done anythin’ but sight-see? Has Forcep Swain done any 
authorin’? 


> 


Has Florian Slappey gotten any hunches’? 
Has Professor Aleck Champagne made any money with 
that orchestra we brung over heah? Has a 

“No! No! No!” shrieked Latimer. ‘‘ Nobody ain't 
done nothin’ an’ nobody ain't doin’ nothin’, an’ so far as I 
can see nobody ain't fixin’ to do nothin’. An’ whose fault 
it is is yourn on account you is chief director.” 

“*Fumadiddles!’”’ snorted Clump. ‘Who says so be- 
sides you?” 

“Welford Potts!"’ roared the president. ‘He says so!” 

A terrible and audible silence pervaded the room. J. 
Cesar Clump turned with jaw drooping to stare at the 
dapper and elegant figure of his erstwhile bosom friend, 
the sartorially magnificent Mr. Welford Potts, one of the 
most shining stars in the Midnight constellation. 

Mr. Potts was somewhat startled by the sudden turn of 
the quarrel. He sat on the edge of his chair giving an 





amazingly accurate imitation of a flounder 

which has just been removed from its na- 
tive brine. Because, after all, it was the old story of cir- 
cumstances altering cases. Welford Potts had not been 
actually criticizing his director friend. He had only —but 
Cwsar was descending upon him and there were fire and 
brimstone in the glance of the harried director. 

“Welford Potts, did you say to Orifice that it was my 
fault we ain’t done nothin’?” 
“*N-n-n-now listen, C@sar 

“Answer me. Did you did, or did you didn’t?” 
“Well, it was thisaway 53 
“I told you he did,’’ roared Latimer. ‘Ev’ybody says 


” 


it. 

“But it took Mistuh Shrimp Welford Potts to rilly give 
you the whole idea, eh? Mistuh Potts which I made an 
actor out of an’ thought was my friend. It was Mistuh 
Potts which stahted all this, huh? All right. Fum this 
minute on J. Cw@sar Clump goes out an’ gits pitchers—an’ 
he does it without no friends n’'r nothin’. Good, bad or 
rotten—I gits pitchers. You says all you craves is fo’ us 
* as fo’ 


you, Mistuh Potts—you po’, misguided, lopsided, bandy- 


to shoot a lot of footage. A’right, I shoots it. An 





legged, three-toed son of a cockeyed buzzard, Ise sho 
gwine git even with you fo’ stahtin’ this mess.” 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


“Ceasar, I never 


“I thought of it myse’'f,”’ howled Presi- 
dent Latimer 

“Bah!” snapped Mr. Clump as_ he 
lammed out of the room. ‘You never 
thought of 


life 


one thing in yo’ whole mis'able 


President and star stared at each other. 
The countenance of Mr. Welford Potts 
reflected an excessive lugubriosity not en- 
tirely free from resentment 

“Orifice, you done me dirt. I never sug- 
gested ws 

“I didn’t say you was the suggestive 
one, did 1?" 

“No. But Ca@sar thought os 

“It's a good thing fo’ Midnight if Cawsar 
thinks anything. Way money things is 
runnin’ over heah in Europe, they ain’t no 
diff'ence tween coffers an’ coffins. An’ as 
fo’ that uppity director 

“I don’t care bout heahin’ you straduce 
Cesar,”’ said Welford firmly. ‘‘He’s my 
friend, an’ Ise gwine out an’ make up with 
him.” 

Down the hallway of the modest and not 
overheated Regal Hotel went the unhappy 
Welford Potts. He faced the task of set- 
ting himself right with his 
director, and that task promised to prove 
anything but easy. 

Orifice Latimer, after all, had been grossly 
unjust. Welford merely agreed that Mid- 
night had fallen into a state of hopeless in- 
action since setting foot on the shores of 
sunny Italy. The time had been pleasurably 

pent, of course; carriage drives around the 

* city and to Sorrento and Pompeii and Amalfi; 
a highly seasickish boat ride to the island of 
Capri and its Blue Grotto; soothing liqueurs 
in sidewalk cafés, and many trips to see 
American movies with Italian subtitles. But 
so far no slapstick footage had been shot by 
this company; no scenario had been con- 
cocted; nothing had been done toward taking 
pictures other than securing police permits 
to photograph on the streets of Naples 

As Welford Potts reached the door of 
Cesar’s room, Mr. Clump came slamming 
moodily into the hall. His putties had lost 
their luster, his long-visored cap was askew 
on top of his head and his eyes were blaz- 
ing. Mr. Potts put a pleading hand on the 
other’s arm. 

“Cesar, listen 

‘Ise listened to all what I craves to heah. 
Git out of my way befo’ I steps on you.”’ 

““Where you goin’?”’ 

*‘Ise gwine out to take pitchers.”’ 
“Where?” 

‘In Naples—tha’s where. I dunno what kind or how, 
but Orifice Latimer says git pitchers, an’ Ise gwine git ‘em. 
Nothin’ don’t matter no mo’—an’ I suggests that you goes 
back an’ commences to talk with him ‘bout firin’ me an’ 
makin’ Eddie Fizz chief director.” 

Clump stalked down the hall in majestic grandeur, and 
the distraught Welford Potts gave pleading chase. 

“T never said xf 

“You said a-plenty. Ev'y time you opens yo’ mouf, 
words falls out—an’ they is mostly words without no sense.’ 

Clump descended to the main floor and passed through 
the lobby into the street, Welford still in pathetic pursuit. 

It was Mr. Potts’ sole and simple ambition to set himself 
right with Mr. Clump. 

‘“‘Cwsar, I thinks you is the wonderfulest director 

Mr. Clump strode to the corner and turned left on Via 
Caracciolo. The broad thoroughfare, parked on the right 
and bordering the Bay of Naples, seemed to soothe him 
not a whit, and he merely ignored the peacemaking Welford 

“‘T just told Orifice that we hadn't took no pitchers since 
we landed in Naples, an’ if that ain’t the truth, what is it?”’ 

“Yeh. An’ also it’s true that Orifice is ugly an’ fat. 
Now let's heah you tell him that!” 

“But, Brother Clump 

‘I ain’t yo’ brother. I ain't nobody's brother no mo’. 
An’ I craves that you keeps yo’ mouf shut. I yearns fo’ 
solitude an’ heaps of it.” 

Whereupon Czxsar strode moodily along the Riverside 


Drive of Naples in the general direction of the city’s civ 
center. His face was darker than Nature intended and |} 
heart was leaden. Presidential censure caused his soul to 
shrivel. It was the first he had ever received, and he knew 


that it was not entirely unjust. 





“Turn Aroun'’, Wetford,"" He Yetted; “‘an’ Run!"* 





A ar tt ff Dire (a 
| f ft and ¢ 
as, had beer jed 
transp atic ror 
ma. to N Ital 
, mae tot 
‘ tic environ 
ment. The narrow 
‘ ng tie 
‘ r tone 
ste] and aleoe 
¢ tall te 
ents, the mo f 
r erent people 
tne sobbing tax 
t ? Oo 
tie tran tine 
rn tudinous ur 
forms of the m 


gin He possessed a vague feeling th 
hooting pictures, hunches would pile 
he couldn't sleep nights; but that gre: 
tional hunch which was to start the 
farther distant with the passing of eacl 
He reflected, now, as he strode alon 
the waterfront into the narrow, congests 
on either side by five and six story tenemen at. hi 
Welford Potts not timed his critical suggestions so inop 





portunely, the divine hunch would have descended not 
later than that day; and so he despised his erstwhile friend 
and gave no heed to Welford’s passionate peace offerings 

“Honest, Cesar, I didn’t go for to git you into no mess 
I never thought Orifice was gwine ‘cuse me of sa} . 

‘I ain’t interested in yo’ talkment. I just nachelly ain't 
interested in you a-tall.” 

“But Ise sorry, Cwsar. Honest to goshn« l is. I 
thinks you is wonderful 

“But dumb!” 

‘“‘An’ I knows we is gwine git pitchers, an’ Ise nachelly 
itchin’ to help y 

“Tha’s all anybody has done since gittin’ to Naples. 
Itch.” 

**Won't you make up, Brother Clump? 

“Only thing I makes up is my mind. An’ I makes that 
up to show somebody somethin’. Now leave me be.” 

But Welford Potts did not leave him be. He trotted 
patiently along in the wake of the irate and troubled 
director, as that slender and wiry individual threaded his 


way through the tortuous mazé of narrow, squalid, flag- 





stoned streets which wander indiscriminately thr 


downtown section of Naples. 


ough the 


Cesar was in an unforgiving mood. Welford was de- 
spondent. They knew not whither they went. Cesar 
traversed one street and then another, Mr. Potts dogging 
his heels. Mr. Potts was desperate. He had unwittingly 
done his friend injury and found it impossible to make 
amends And Cesar’s thoughts were going around in 


circles, His instinct was to forgive Welford, for he craved 


friendly counsel and an unburdening of his soul —but pride 
forbade. He liked Welford, yet he sought revenge even 


before peace 
They passed a corner. The wistful eye of Mr. Potts 


lighted upon a sign paints d over the door of a tir y hop 


a sign which announced to the world that here fabacco # 
dispensed And in the window of that fa ) shop was 
something which afflicted Welford with an inspiration 

In full view of the multitude were some Virginia ciga 
rettes. They were not expensive and they were not many, 
but at sight of them Welford smiled hopefully. 

He knew that particular brand was J. Cwsar's favorite 
What was more, Mr. Clump had sought wildly and vainly 
since landing in Italy for precisely that cigarette. And 
now 


It occurred to Welford that here was golden opportunity 
to make a peace offering which uuld not be rejected 
Cwsar's favorite cigarette! What iron heart would fail to 


melt under the white heat of such a gift? What granite 





soul could withstand the blast of such an offering? 
‘““Cwsar,”’ whispered Mr. Potts, ‘‘y you do me just 
one fa 5?” 
What is it? 
Wait heah fo’ me one li'l’ teeny minute.” 


Continued on Page 120 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


I OQ 


T IS paradoxical, but 

true, that as radio sets 

get more complex, deli- 
cate and precise, they are 
more easily operated. It 
took an engineer to run the 
early sets, and even more 
recently timid foiks, when 
tempted to go in for radio, 
were discouraged by the 
multiplicity of dials and 
the intricacy of the various 
accessories and control 
arrangements. 

Several things have 
made operation simpler. 
The built-in loop aerial, 
now used instead of the 
outside aerial 50 to 100 feet 
in length, helps. So do 
built-in loud-speakers, dry 
cells instead of wet bat- 
teries, and lamp-socket 
power supply. But the 
most confusing feature of 
early sets was the system 
of separate tuning dials for 
each of the several stages 
of amplification. Fre- 
quently there were three 
dials to be turned for tun- 
ing and several dials for 
other adjustments as well. 
No operator could be found 
with more than two hands 
to turn these dials, and 
two hands were at a dis- 
tinct disadvantage. Fi- 
nally use was made of an 
ingenious device for the 
operation of all the tun- 
ing apparatus by means of 
a single dial. The original 
idea was worked out by 
Fessenden and was _ per- 
fected by John V. L. 
Hogan, radio engineer, who worked out the details of the 
single dial while he was still in college. He intended it for 
ships at sea, where sometimes speed in operation might 
save a life. 

The device was used by ships, but did not become a part 
of broadcasting until 1923. It is indicative of the extreme 
caution with which radio manufacture advanced that this 
invention, which seems now so obviously useful, should 
not have been snapped up at once. Asa matter of fact, Mr. 
Hogan offered the patent to at least one large company 
for exclusive license at a price which was less than the same 
company now pays him for a nonexclusive license under 
the patent, shared with a score of other companies. 


A Husky Five-Year-Old 


AN UNEXPECTED problem was created by the sensi- 
4. tive new receiving sets. The same delicacy of percep- 
tion that let them reproduce the faintest incoming impulses 
from distant broadcasting stations also enabled them to 
reproduce the impulses from electrical machinery and 
from other man-made disturbances. 

Late in 1924, so many complaints regarding interference 
of this kind were received that the Radio Corporation 
organized a special staff to investigate. During 1925, 
300 of interference caused by electrical machinery 

were tracked down and remedied. 
Among the sources of interference 
which have been traced are: Street 
railways, are lights, motion-picture 
machines, electric grills, elevators, 
defective house wiring, vacuum clean- 
ers, electric heating pads and silent 
traffic policemen—that is, electric 
signals which control the traffic. 
Another source of interference has 
been the use of regenerative receiv- 
ers without devices to prevent radia- 
Where too much regenerative 
amplification is used, such sets begin 
le—that is, they cease to act 


Cast 


tion 


to whistle 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
WYNCIE KING 


There is Something Terrifying in the Utter Silence, the Total Lack of Facility for Determining What the Audience is Like 


as receivers and begin to create and radiate oscillations of 
their own. In this way the whole receiving set becomes a 
small transmitter and its waves can be heard over other sets 
in the neighborhood, to the annoyance of owners of those 
This radiation is being prevented by loop aerials— 
coupling tubes, which include one or more amplifying 
tubes without feed-back, used between the aerial and the 
oscillating circuit to prevent the oscillations from reaching 
the aerial, and counter feed-back devices which automat- 
ically stop regeneration from building up to a point where 
oscillation begins. 

From all this it may be seen that in five years receiving 
sets have advanced through six or seven stages. First 
came the simple crystal sets, or sets with one or two tubes 
but without substantial amplification. Then came sets with 

regenerative amplification. Tuned 
radio-frequency sets with several 
successive tube circuits and a fairly 
high degree of amplification and se- 
lectivity were next. There followed, 
in quick succession, the superhetero- 
dyne set with very high degree of 
amplification and selectivity; the 
completely self-contained set, with 
loop aerial and inclosed loud-speaker; 
and the set with lamp-socket power 
supply and a very powerful loud- 
speaker. 

The most recent and, for many reasons, most interesting 
development is the combination of the radio and the 
phonograph, operated electrically and with the electric 
pick-up. 

Naturally, this is only a rough classification of set growth, 
since some of the attributes of one set may have been 
combined with some of the others, but it serves to show 
what can be done in five years when the public takes an 


sets. 


innovation to its heart. 

So many are the changes that it seems it must have been 
further back than the fall of 1921 that crude affairs, operated 
with long outside aerials, heavy wet batteries and head 
phones, and appealing only to scientific amateurs who 


August 14,1926 


By DAVID SARNOFF=-AS TOLD 
TO MARY MARGARET McBRIDE 


were enthusiastic over the chance to experiment with 
something new, were offered for sale. Yet it was 1921, 
and in those days plenty of people thought that radio 
was a fad, soon to be outworn. 

At the transmission end engineers have been at work 
analyzing and studying sound as strenuously as their 
coworkers at the receiving end. The early imperfections 
of radio apparatus—distortion of speech and music, 
elimination of overtones, the accentuation of certain let- 
ters and the partial elision of others—have been overcome 
through better methods of modulation and transmission. 
Studio equipment also has been improved by the desired 
extent of elimination of echoes and the avoidance of over- 
accentuation of one instrument at the expense of others. 

To get precise results, 
measurements of people's 
hearing of speech and mu- 
sic have been carried out. 
More faithful transmis- 
sion has been achieved by 
transmission in a longer 
range of pitches. Origi- 
nally transmission was 350 
to 3000 cycles a second. 
Now it is 50 to 6000 cycles 
or more. This will be in- 
creased undoubtedly. Ad- 
vances these days are 
made on the strength of 
scientific measurements. 
The old cut-and-try 
method has gone out in 
the laboratory. 


The Microphone 


ADIO owners hear 

much of the micro- 
phone, affectionately 
called the mike, into which 
music or speech is poured. 
The microphone goes back 
to the first decade of the 
history of telephony. In 
the form we know it, it 
was invented by a man 
named Blake, who used plates of polished carbon with 
granular carbon grains between. The microphone that is in 
use today substitutes gold plating for the carbon and has a 
diaphragm of stretched duraluminum, the same material 
of which the frames of dirigibles are made. This increases 
smoothness of response to notes of 
all pitches. 

Study of the microphone has been 

carried to such a point that Dr. 

Phillips Thomas, a research engineer 

of the Westinghouse Company, has 

produced an instrument so sensitive 

that it is said to be able to ‘‘hear in- 

sects talk.’’ It can also be used to 

help doctors locate defective organs 

in the human body through vibra- 

tion. This is a valuable discovery, 

since it has been demonstrated that 

once the normal vibrating periods or characteristic sounds 
of healthy organs are known, the defective ones can be dis- 
covered by sound variations. 

The early broadcasting stations used only a small frac- 
tion of one kilowatt. Then stations of 500 watts to 750 
watts were introduced. Later stations of 5000 watts were 
built, and later still superpower stations, such as KDKA, 
WJZ and WGY, began to operate experimentally on power 
up to 50,000 watts. 

This enormous increase in power required the develop- 
ment of water-cooled tubes of the high-vacuum type, with 
copper bulbs and special filaments. 

Crystal-controlled transmitters reduce interference and 
make possible the close spacing of wave channels, by pre- 
venting stations from wabbling off their wave lengths and 
crossing with one another. The so-called piezo-electric 
effect of a thin slice of quartz crystal, which can be made 
to vibrate rhythmically at any desired frequency, controls 
the wave length of any station with accuracy, even when 
the oscillations run as high as 15,000,000 a second. In 
other words, a waferlike slice of crystal of almost diamond 
hardness of about two one-hundredths of an inch in thick- 
ness holds radio transmission constant. 












fl 
{ 


It is difficult to give proper credit for a great many 
radio inventions, because so far the courts have handed 
down all too few decisions that really settle ownership of 
patents. The romance of radio is tremendously attractive 
to every man of imagination. We have had all sorts of 
would-be inventors —from the farm, from the schoolroom 
and even from the telephone switchboard. Most radio 
inventors are men, but women go in for it, too, sometimes. 

The uncertainties of the field are such that leading en- 
gineers insist that a patent must have been applied for 
before they inspect an invention. They don’t want to deal 
with helpless people, who may later accuse them of having 
stolen an idea. The truth is, many inventions are the re- 
inventions of older methods. When a science has gone as 
far as radio has now, the amateur in the proverbial attic 
is not so likely to make a revolutionary invention as is 
the trained worker in a well-equipped laboratory. This is 
because the big laboratories are working overtime to turn 
out mechanical perfection, and their engineers and scien- 
tists are provided with the necessary facilities for orderly 
experimentation. It is almost too bad that this is true, for 
it spoils the story. Even I would rather believe the thrill- 
ing tales about amateurs who wake up in the middle of the 
night with ideas for inventions that will net them many 
millions. But I can’t remember any actual case of this 
kind in recent radio history. 

Inveterate inventors are not, however, to be discour- 
aged. One man has visited a certain radio-engineering 
department twenty-three times, always with a new scheme. 
Every one has turned out to be either useless or a reinven- 
tion. He never seems to be fazed by the inevitable report 
and always pops back serenely with 
something else. All sorts of inter- 
esting suggestions are made. A num- 
ber of persons seem to have conceived 
recently the idea that it would be 
nice to paint domestic scenes on the 
side of radio receivers to give a pleas- 
ant homelike atmosphere. Others 
suggest painting studio scenes on the 
sides of the loud-speaker to make the 
listener think he is really in a stu- 
dio. The wildest dreams of a fu- 
turistic furniture maker are tame 
beside the cabinets designed by 
some would-be inventors. They are so grotesque that 
if a timid person awoke and saw them in his room at 
night he would shriek for help. One man wants them 
carved to represent lions and panthers. Another brought 
in a skeleton model. A woman suggested that a phos- 
phorescent glow about the cabinet would produce a 
delightful eerie sensation on long winter evenings with 
the lights turned off and radio turned on. 





Amateur and Professional Inventors 


FAVORITE type of invention is what we call 
gadgets—things to be attached to some part of the 
receiving instrument to make it sound better. Often 
these attachments will cost more than the entire re- 
ceiver, but this is a mere detail to the proud inventor. 
Tubes exert a strange fascination too. All sorts of ar- 
rangements have been suggested for 
coloring them so that they will glow 
with a soft light. 
Everybody, itseems, must, atsome 
time or other in his life, try build- 
ing aloud-speaker out of wood in such 


Keeping on the Farm 
the Boy and Girt Al« 
ready There is the 
Ultimate Service the 
Radio Will Render to 
Rural Communities 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


a way as to get perfect tone. Sometimes the architect 
relies upon the shape of his instrument, sometimes 
upon the kind of wood or the veneer to produce this tone 
There are some pathetic cases. I remember one gray- 
haired elderly man of the stoop-shouldered, deprecating, 
perenniai-failure type who came into the laboratory ac- 
companied by a determined-looking wife. He hada crinkly 
horn which he was sure would solve al] loud-speaker prob- 
lems. We tried to soften the blow, but had to tell him not 
to invest any money in the project. As he slowly took in 
what we meant, he seemed to crumple up before our eyes. 

Although all are carefully exam- 
ined for fear something may be 
missed, there is an astonishingly 
small percentage of workable ideas 
among those submitted. Out of 1000 
suggested inventions there may be 
one or two that can be used—usu- 
ally with modifications. 

The great inventors and scientists 
I have known have been plain, 
friendly, humble men. My chief im- 
pression of Marconi was always of 
democracy. I remember one day 
an Italian boy came in to shine his shoes 
interested in something the boy said and detained him for 
half an hour, talking to him eagerly in Italian and shaking 
hands when they parted. 

The greater the scientist is the humbler seems to be his 
attitude. If you asked Steinmetz ‘‘What is ether?” he 
told you that he wished he knew. A college sophomore, on 
the other hand, would answer glibly that ether is a medium 
through which electric waves travel. That reminds me of a 
story told to me by Melville Stone, counselor of the Asso- 
ciated Press, about Heinrich Hertz, discoverer of the theory 
of electromagnetic waves, which is at the basis of radio. 

Hertz was a teacher of physics in a German university. 
One day a student asked, ‘‘ What is electricity?’’ Before 
Hertz had a chance to reply, a boy in the back of the room 
held up his hand. When the teacher rather sardonically 
said, “Allright, you tell him,” the boy’s knowledge seemed 

_ suddenly to vanish into thin air and he stam- 
@ ™>, _mered that he had forgotten. 
; Hertz looked at him for a moment without 
Ne speaking, then shook his head sadly. ‘‘Whata 
pity !’’ he commented. ‘‘ The only man who has 
ever known what electricity is has forgotten!” 
When Albert Einstein, of relativity fame, 
was in this country in 1922, I gave a lunch- 
eon in his honor and invited Steinmetz, Irving 
Langmuir and other leading scientists. It was 





Marconi got 























a rather thrilling event for a lay- 
man, seeing so many great men to 


gether. Einstein was shown t 


our radio station at New Brunswick iy 
Queerly enoug! , 1 cannot reca!! any he 


prophecy of his about radio ] } 
inclined to think that he did not make | 

one. Heseemed to be rather awed NY 
by the magnitude of the concrete de 


velopment of theories that he under- 





stood better perhaps than any of us. 

Doctor Goldsmith took Einstein, Steinmetz and Lang- 
muir out to New Brunswick in his automobile, and they 
carried on an astonishing conversation in three lan- 
guages —German, English and Frenc} i fire of ideas 
went back and forth, and the three promulgated theories 
and problems enough to keep the rest of the scientif 
world busy for a generation. They discussed the internal 
structure of atoms and the inmost secrets of scier nmucl 


the same manner that we ordinary mortals would debate 
what to have for dinner. 
Two inventors of especial interest to present-day rad 


fans are Armstrong and John Hays Hammond, Jr. Arm 


strong worked out his regenerator while he was still a stu- 
dent at Columbia University. In fact, he began inventing ir 
his own attic when he was fifteen. His invention practi 
cally revamped the manufacture of radio sets. When he 
gave his first demonstration before cials of the Marconi 
Company, I remember that the tal! young fellow carried all 
his equipment in a black box and each part was painted 
black. This was a camouflage arrangement to make sure 
that nobody should pirate his idea 


Seeing Things Up Gloucester Way 


AMMOND isa latter-day descendant of a long line of 
gentleman scientists, men of means who might have 

been content to live without work, but who have wanted 
to invent for the joy of it. Cavendish and Faraday wers 
among this group; and so was the Marquis of Worcester, 
who built one of the original steam engines 

Hammond is a graduate of Yale and a democratic, unos- 
tentatious man, very pertinacious where his work is con 
cerned. Two types of problems appear to interest him 
national affairs and music. In teledynamics, the science of 
remote control, or controlling things at a distance, he has 
always worked with the idea of military defense in mind. 

It is an uncanny sensation to stand on the shore of 
Gloucester Harbor and watch Hammond's unmanned boat 
start out at top speed when a button is pressed. As it 
sails along on top of the water it draws near another 
craft. A touch of the button swerves it to the side 
and it passes in safety, while the eyes of the persons 
in the other boat bulge out from astonishment. Ty 
end the exhibition Hammond wills his creation to 
do stunts and it begins to cut figure eights in the 
water. 

] 


The inventor has also controlied torpedoes and 









airplanes by radio, and has constructed a dog of 


metal which will follow him about the house until 













the neighbors think they’re seeing things 
In connection with his torpedo control, he has per- 


item that seems like doom itself. There 


fe ( ted one 











was always a possi 








miity that persons 












a boat toward 


which a torpedo 



















Continued on 
Page 31 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


COUNTER ATTA 


ARTY 
italist, mill 
politician, was in 
Melvin Palmer. L 
as the entire county was 


ROONEY, 


owner and 


cap- 


con- 
ference 
Meivin, 
aware, supplied Marty with an extra pair of very 
bright eyes, and with a pair of hands which did 
not object to a certain quantity of surreptitious 
dirt. It was an excellent arrangement for both. 
Mr. Palmer performed work for which he was 
fitted and for which he had an enviable 
genius—at satisfying rates of payment; Mr. 
Rooney occupied a position which made it pos- 
sible for him, in unpleasant emergencies, to 
declare that Mr. Palmer had gone too far, had 
acted on his own, as it were, 


with wes 


eminently 


and in consequence would be 
removed from the pay roll 
Excellent: results 
were obtained. 


forthwith. 


“You can’t buy him, seems 
as though,’ said Mr. Palmer, 
referring to a certain young 
attorney at law, Caleb 
Hope by name. 

‘I discovered 
that for 
Marty said dryly 
but urbanely. He 
was industriously 
urbane; it was his 
avocation. 

“And,” said Mr 
Palmer, “he 
any fool.” 

“In your former 
report, 
Marty, “‘you took 
the opposite view.”’ 

‘*i’m cured, 
said Mr. Palmer, 

“‘and we” better 
take steps.” 

‘And cont rive 
adroit expedients,’ 
said Marty, 
had the gift of 
tongue and loved the sound of 
apt and musicai words as they 
issued from his lips. 

“He's gittin’ quite 


1 a 
DUSINeSS. 


myself,” 


ain't 


said 


who 


a bit of 
“And attending to it effi- 
ciently, which is 

“You think it up and I'll 
see it’s done,’ promised Mr. 


worse.” 


Palmer. 
“I like 
> him 


him. I confess I 
But we mustn't let 
re with business 


must be 


No, in spite of his admirable characteristics, he 
\ ] \ 9 


abdoiusned 


“How?” 
‘Melvin, the 
lawyer is to hz 
“But, dog 
“You don't have to be a negro to sing a coon song,” 
Marty sententiously; 


most effective way to abolish 
ive him disbarred.’ 


y-gone it, 


a young 


he’s honest.’ 
said 
“there is burnt cork, you know.” 

‘Have you got any to smear him with?” 

“T think so. Indeed, I may say that I have a can with 
full guaranty printed on the label. . . . By the way, 
what about this First Voters’ League I hear of?” 

“Kind of an or; zation,”’ said Mr. Palmer; ‘‘and as 
near as I can git it, the main object is to give minstrel 
snows 
uixed up in it?” 

n find out. He ain’t an officer and he’s 
a meeting.’ 

" said Marty, 
it if it seems worth our while 
‘When'll you be ready to set things to whizzin 
Marty said. 


‘Ts ( 
‘Not that I ki 
never been at 
“Watch it,’ 


} arge of 


‘aleb Hope n 


“and we'll arrange to take 


se%0 
‘Day or two,” 
Mr. P 


road into town. 


‘ll send for you.” 

almer left the office and walked down the river 
As he turned into Main Street he saw 
walking slowly ahead of him a very tall, slender, stooping 
and, he quickened his steps presently to fall in beside 


Caleb Hope. 


figure, 


i Clarence Budington Kelland 


7, a 82 Ff 2 SS 





She Had Not Meant to be an Eavesdropper, But the Mention of Caleb Hope’s Name Had Arrested Her 


“*Mornin’,”’ he said brightly. 

Caleb turned his head to look downward. ‘ Ah,”’ he said 
in his melancholy voice, ‘‘Mr. Melvin Palmer, and no 
other!” 

“It's me, all right 
self?” 


,’ said Melvin. ‘How d’ye find your- 


“‘Now there’s a question. How dolI find myself? How 
does anybody find himself? Or, to go further into the 
matter, does any man really find himself at all?” 

“T can’t say,’”’ responded Melvin, somewhat nonplused, 
and with a resurgence of his old notion that Caleb was a 
button short as to intellect. 

“Now is the time,”’ said Caleb, “for all good men to 
come to the aid of their party.” 

““Why, yes,” said Melvin; “but what put that idee into 
your head?” 

“You ask the most fascinating questions,’ 
sadly. ‘‘Conversation with you is a pleasure. 
up such vistas for speculation.” 

Melvin was finding the conversation difficult. His 
purpose had been to glean any wisps of information which 
Caleb might drop unawares; but if this were information, 
he did not know how to digest it. 

““How’s the law business?” 

“Brisk,” 

“It’s gittin’ so I 
Melvin. 


Caleb said 
You open 


he asked presently. 
You'd be 
ain't 


said Caleb, surprised.” 


surprised at anythin’,’”’ said 


August 14,1926 





used to be 
asked 


“Did 
prised?” 
ostedly. 

““Why—lI guess so.” 

“At what?” 

““Why—well, at different things.” 

“Sometime,” Caleb said wearily, 
“T wish you would make a list of 
them forme. You know—the things 
you used to be surprised at which 
surprise you no longer.” 

“‘Land’s sake! What for?” 

“You ought not to ask that,” 
Caleb said mildly. ‘Such questions 
should not arise between friends.”’ 

“Sufferin’ mackerel!’’ Melvin 
exclaimed hoarsely. 

“‘T leave you here,”’ Caleb said. 
“This is my office, where I practice 
the law you spoke about.” 

Melvin made no response until 
Caleb was inside; then he clicked 
his teeth together and snapped his 

head sidewise on his shoulders 
as a man might do in a high 
state of irritation. ‘‘Then go 
practice it, dog-gone ye!” he 
said. ‘‘And next time ye meet a 
man on the street, talk sense.”’ 
Presently Mr. Briggs, 
tion master, baggage man, te- 
legrapher, ambled up the street 
and walked into Caleb’s office. 
“**Mornin’, Mr. Hope,” he 
said. 
“*Mornin’, Mr. Briggs.” 
“I’ve been thinkin’,’”’ said 
Mr. Briggs. 
“A sudden attack?” asked 
Caleb with interest. ‘“‘Or has 
it been coming on 
gradually?” 
“Kind of acreepin’ 
paralysis,”’ said Mr. 
Briggs soberly. “I 
been givin’ my at- 
tention to politics.” 
“Have you 
to a conclusion?” 
“This here town's 
a part of the United 
States, hain’t it?”’ 
‘‘An important 
part,”’ said Caleb. 
“And the United 
States is run by the 
will of the people, 
hain’t it?” 

“At times I’m al- 
most afraid it is.”’ 
this town hain’t—-that’s what I’m 
enjoy them rights and privileges I 
Marty Rooney 


you 
Caleb 


sur- 
inter- 


in 


sta- 


come 


“Uh-huh. Wa-al, 
gittin’ at. It don't 
heard a Fourth of July orator speak about. 
runs it and bosses it and sets onto it.” 

“And you conclude from that ——”’ 

“‘That suthin’ ought to be done.” 

‘**As, for instance, what?” 

“Marty’s apple cart ought to git upset.” 

“By w hom? i 

“You,” said Mr. Briggs categorically, 

“How shall we go about it?” 

“You do the heavy thinkin’,” said Mr. Briggs, “and I'll 
do the stirrin’ around. I hain’t never amounted to much in 
folks’ estimation here, but by dad, I cal’iate to.” 

“‘Cesar was an ambitious man,” said Caleb. 

“He wan't local. Dunno’s I recall the name. 

“He lived in Rome,” said Caleb. 

“Guess I know the feller. My wife's sister’s married and 
lives there. We was there Thanksgivin’ dinner. Kind of a 
heavy-set feller, ain’t he? With whiskers? . Rome's 
a nice little place, but it’s a sight colder’n this in winter, 
though it hain’t but thutty mile off.” 

“But,” asked Caleb, “‘what in particular have you in 
mind?” 

“Mr. Hope,” said Mr. Briggs, “I hain’t one to go off half 
cocked, not to tackle suthin’ without due preparation.” 

“I gathered as much from your conversations.” 


“‘and me.’ 


” 





























) 


ee 








“When I was a young feller I laid me out what you 
might call a career, but I hain’t never found jest the right 
day to git started on it.”’ 

“And this career?” 

“T figgered I was cut and sewed by Nature to be a justice 
of the peace. My mind runs that way. I’m jambful of 
equitability, as you might say, and passin’ judgments gives 
me a sight of satisfaction.” 

“But as to legal knowledge?” 

“Mr. Hope, I’m fair bustin’ out in a rash with it. T been 
readin’ Tiffany’s Justices’ Guide these twenty-odd years. I 
read her evenin’s and Sundays, and by dad, I kin recite her 
from kiver to kiver!”’ 

“Mr. Briggs, if you know all the law in Tiffany, you are 
better informed than the Supreme Court of the United 
States. I gather you wish to enter politics as a candidate 
for justice of the peace.”’ 

“You guessed it.”’ 

“But not without a hint from you,”’ Caleb said modestly. 

“Marty he owns the town board and the county courts 
and the supervisors and the justice of the peace. Nobody 
kin get a fair deal in any argument with Marty. I wouldn’t 
be no private justice if I got elected.” 

“The difficulty,” said Caleb, ‘‘seems to be just that 
to elect you.” 

“That’s why I come to you. You beat Marty once. You 
kin do it again.” 

“We've got to start some place. Pick a stone out of the 
foundation. Concentrate on one pebble. Um— Mr. Briggs, 
I think you'll make a splendid pebble.” 

“Then you’re fur me?” 

“T am. Now go away and sell railroad tickets.” 

“T’m goin’. I’m goin’ now. I’m goin’ to sell lots of ’em.” 

With this promise upon his lips, Mr. Briggs withdrew. 
Caleb Hope slumped back in his chair, a very figure of 
melancholy. He reached for a law book, but laid it down 
again and frowned at it as if it were an offensive person. 

“It’s curious,”’ he said to himself, “‘how I abhor work.” 
And with that he set himself upright, placed his dis- 
reputable hat on his head and went outside, where there 
was an abundance of sunshine. He was bent upon loafing 
and made no effort to conceal it from his conscience. He 
did not even pretend he was going on an errand. 

He strolled up the street, climbed the pleasant slope of 
the westward hill and headed toward the open country be- 
yond. A car approached from the opposite direction at a 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


speed not smiled upon by the laws of the village, and as it 
came abreast of Caleb, it swished through a puddle left by 
the rain of the evening before. The motorist made no 
effort to avoid this congregation of muddy moisture, with 
the result that it was hurled outward with great vehemence. 
Caleb was there when it arrived, and as he wiped mud and 
water from his face and clothing, he gazed after the car 
with melancholy reproachfulness. 

Then he strolled onward for perhaps five minutes, when 
the same car, returning, rushed past him, stopped vio- 
lently, with a screaming of brakes, before the door of 
Marty Rooney's house, and Miss Seena Rooney, that 
gentleman’s niece, alighted. Caleb hastened his steps by a 
very little, so that he met her as she stepped upon the walk. 
He lifted his hat with a weary gesture and did not smile as 
he greeted her. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said in his tired voice, “‘ but 
don’t you think you'd better back up a hundred feet and 
try it again?” 

She wrinkled her brow at him and said, “ What?” very 
shortly. 

““You omitted something,” he said, “‘by inadvertence. I 
hate to think of your day being spoiled.” 

““What are you talking about?” 

“There’s a puddle back there—a rather nice and deep 
one.”” 

“What of it?” 

“T suggest that you back” up. I will station myself 
beside the puddle. You can swish through it and the water 
will do the rest. Then everything will be all right.” 

“Did I splash you before?’’ Her cheeks became beauti- 
fully pink. 

“‘ Judge for yourself. Regard, for instance, my nose. I 
did such rough-and-ready renovation as was possible, but I 
seem to feel a smudge just there.”” He pointed to the spot. 

“Send your clothes to the cleaner and the bill to me,” 
she said loftily. 

“‘And my face—what shall I do about that?” 

“Do you want me to wash it?’’ she demanded. 

“‘Are you good at washing faces? I don’t care to trust 
mine to unskilled hands.” 

The young lady was twenty-two, but she suddenly re- 
lapsed to twelve. She clenched her fists and stamped a 
foot. Undoubtedly she would have made a face, but she 
caught herself at it in time. 

“You are detestable,” she said. 


“And you're prescribing mud baths for it?” he asked 

She had reached that state of exasperation from whic! 
there is no relief but the spatting of a palm against the ex 
asperator’s cheek. But Seena did not spat. She snatched 
at her dignity and clutched it about her very much as a 
lady surprised in insufficient negligee will do wit 
boudoir gown; and then, with stiff back and erect 
ders, she turned and marched away from him 

Caleb regarded her with shadowed eyes, waggled his 
head once, and himself turned back toward his office. As 
for Seena Rooney, she paraded with military step up the 
walk, into the house and to her own room 


regarded herself in the mirror to make sure she did not err 


There she 


in her recollections of her personal appearance. The glass 
satisfied her, but ieft her puzzled. How, she wondered 
vaguely, could any young man deal in such a manner wit} 
a young woman who looked like that? And then she sat 
down on the edge of the bed to give her whole attention to 
hating Caleb Hope. She did so thoroughly 
tically. She called him names and landed what any 
pugilist would recognize as a knock-out punch in the solar 
plexus of her pillow. It was a great satisfaction, but left 
her still puzzled. To be puzzled about a young man is a 


perilous state of mind. 


and enthusias 


im 
GAIN Melvin Palmer and Marty Rooney were in cor 
ference. 


Palmer said 


‘I got him here,”’ Mr 

“Ts he up to specifications 

“T hain’t seen him do it, but he claims he can. He lets 
on he’s made a livin’ by it.’ 

“Have him in,” said Marty, and Mr. Palmer ushered 
into the presence a shambling individual of middle age and 
not prepossessing teeth. A squirrel might have burst with 
envy at sight of them, but few human beings aspire 
proficiency in cracking nuts 

“Your name is Maddock?” Marty asked 

“Yes, sir, Maddock— Maddock’s my name " said the 
squirrel-toothed gentleman 

“You know what's wanted of you?” 

“In away. Ina kind of a way 

“Can you deliver the goods?” 

“This is a kind of a new lay to me, mister. I ain't never 
been paid to fake an accident before. Do I get protection? 
How about my get-away?”’ 


Continued on Page i57 














“*This,’’ Said Caleb, 








“is My Late Client. 














His Testimony is Not Especiatly Credible, But I Have Corroboration if it is Required"’ 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


THE SATURDAY 
EVENING POST 


REG. U.S. PAT. OFF 


FOUNDED A°D‘ 1728 


PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY 
THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 


INDEPENDENCE SQUARE 
FHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, U.S.A. 


GEORGE HORACE LORIMER, EDITOR 


Five Cents the Copy From All Newsdealers. By Subscription: To the 
United States and Possessions, Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, 
Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Guatemala, Haiti, Isle of 
Pines, Labrador, Mexico, Newfoundland, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay 
Peru, Republic of Honduras, Salvador, Spain and Uruguay, $2.00 the Year 
Remit by U. S. Money Order, Express Money Order, Check or by Draft, 
payable in U. S. Funds 


To Canada—By Subscription, $2.00 the Year. Single Copies, Five Cents— 
Canadian or U. 8. Funds. 


lo Foreign Countries, exclusive of those mentioned above, by subscrip- 
tion, post paid, $6.00 the Year. Remittances to be by Postal or Express 
Money Order or by Draft on a bank in the U. S., payable in U. S. Funds. 


PHILADELPHIA, AUGUST 14, 1926 





Sign Shooters 


HERE is hardly a state whose taxpayers do not com- 
f yew at the cost of maintaining prisons and asylums. 
Yet at the risk of unpopularity with the hard-pressed rate 
payers we urge the enlargement of most of these institu- 
tions, and for a specific purpose. Room should be pro- 
vided for the destructive hooligans who shoot holes in 
highway signs. 

Whether these pernicious rowdies should be classed as 
criminal or insane, we leave to the experts. They seem to 
partake generously of both delightful characteristics, judg- 
ing from their acts. One’s first angry reaction to the sign 
But 
second thought inclines one to the more generous conclu- 


shooter is to the criminal nature of his behavior. 


sion that only a man with a decidedly defective mentality 
would shoot up the guide to safety for many a traveler. 
The sign shooter ranks with the paranoiac. 

The automobile clubs do what they can, no doubt, to 
The 


success of their efforts has not been reported to us, but 


prevent the willful destruction of highway signs. 


anyone who makes an extensive automobile trip is aware 
that much remains to be done. If many of the sign 
shooters have been caught, no great amount of publicity 
has attended the fact. This type of mental defective or 
criminal not only deserves asylum confinement or a jail 
sentence, but he is obviously unfit to operate a car or own 
a firearm. The fact that these belongings have been taken 
away from him should be more widely broadcast. 

The sign shooter takes particular delight in knocking 
out the distance figures. To a stranger on one of the great 
Far Western desert areas this may be a serious, an alarming 
matter. The main transcontinental highways, especially 
those which follow the railroads, pass enough small stores 
and section-gang stations to rob the water problem of its 
terrors, unless, of course, the traveler leaves the main road. 

sut there are north and south roads and minor routes 
where it often happens that the motorist must find a 
water hole quickly, unless the supply he carries along is 
more ample than the average. 

The human being who traverses some of the south- 
western desert regions, especially in those at the lower 
altitudes, in the summer months, cannot get far away 


from a water supply without the most immediate danger. 


The number of large families in broken-down cars who 
attempt to negotiate these places at all times is surprisingly 
large. It was to prevent suffering among such as these that 
automobile clubs signed the country so generously. 

Yet in regions terrible for their heat and aridity, crea- 
tures presumably in the form of men, but evidently lacking 
the brain which alone separates man from coyotes and 
wolves, have shot away many of the figures which indicate 
the distance and direction to the nearest water hole. 

Incidentally, it may be asked, why is it so easy for any 
criminal or moron to become the owner of a gun? 


Club Measles 


T IS the proud boast of our country that ownership of 
Bai automobile is almost as general as suffrage itself. 
Tomorrow the sign and token of democracy may take a 
new slant. Club membership is in a fair way of becoming 
a universal possession. Time was when to belong to a club 
was considered exclusive. But now clubs are organized 
and floated according to the most commercialized standards. 

Men of character and ability differ honestly on the 
subject of clubs. Many of the highest type regard mem- 
bership in these institutions as a foolish affectation of 
superiority. When they have occasion to visit a city away 
from home they prefer the impersonal service of a first- 
class hotel. Others just as sincere find clubs more home- 
like than hotels, and enjoy meeting men of their own tastes 
and interests in the quieter and sometimes more polished 
atmosphere which a real club affords. 

But the club as an institution, regardless of its defects or 
merits, is being diluted with great rapidity. Its exclusive- 
ness, if it ever had any, is undergoing a process of watering. 
If it ever was a good horse, it is now being ridden to death. 
One does not have to be either a famous or wealthy person 
to receive deluges of invitations to join beach clubs, 
country clubs, golf clubs, fishing clubs, gun clubs, ranch 
clubs, and scores of other varieties. 

In numerous, if not all sections of the country, clubs are 
more and more being organized as business propositions, 
just as oil and mining companies are promoted. Some- 
times the dues are high, but evidently the only other 
qualification for membership is the inclusion of one’s name 
on an ordinary mailing list. Despite the costly stationery 
on which invitation is extended and the elaborate camou- 
flage to the effect that ‘‘your name has been suggested to 
the board of governors for charter membership,”’ the ink- 
stained hand of an expert addressing and mailing agency 
shows itself. The only real qualification for membership 
in thousands upon thousands of these clubs is precisely 
the same that is necessary to leave a cash grocery store. 

There is a good side to all this breaking out of the body 
politic into clubs. Beaches, golf courses and trout streams 
are wholesome places to go. Then, too, the financial sol- 
vency required to join innumerable clubs is a high order of 
business merit in itself. 

Yet this newer type of club, to which one is invited by 
means of a circular printed in three colors, does raise cer- 
tain doubts. Woodrow Wilson once railed against the 
eating clubs of Princeton, and many an educator has 
fought high-school and college fraternities. In a thousand 
towns and villages the club crowd has been denounced by 
those who did not like its members, or who, perchance, 
envied them. Yet no power on earth, legal or of public 
opinion, will ever keep men and women from forming and 
joining organizations devised for purposes of sociability 
and comradeship. They may be wasteful and flippant, but 
human nature craves association. 

But such association, such clubbing together, must be 
spontaneous and free from commercial suspicion, to be 
natural. When the only qualification to join a club is the 
purchase of a $500 membership, the whole thing becomes 
a tawdry joke. A club without standing, reputation and 
prestige is a pointless institution. These are intangibles, 
not to be gained by investing several hundred thousand 
dollars, obtained from the sale of memberships, in build- 
ings and grounds. 

Any group of men or women, whatever their names or 
positions, are at liberty to associate themselves into a club. 
It will be as fine an organization as they are, no more and 


August 14,1926 


no less. Prestige, or the reverse, comes with the course of 
time. A club is not put up like an apartment house or an 
office building. To organize one by the simple expedient of 
selling half a million dollars’ worth of memberships is just 
as ridiculous as for a man to think he can become an artist 
by buying half a million’s worth of paint and brushes. 


A Mauve Decade 


HE British Labor Government was too short-lived to 

make possible any estimate of the experiment. Ram- 
say MacDonald and his confreres were so busy keeping 
the wheels turning and coping with the appalling problems 
at home and abroad that they could not give thought to 
economic or social change. In any event, they lacked the 
authority of a majority in their own right. Just how far 
they would have gone if conditions had been favorable is 
still a matter for conjecture. The British Labor interlude, 
That 
the shackles of responsibility can enchain the socialist as 


therefore, established only one fact conclusively: 


well as the conservative, and that change must wait on 
expediency. 

In Queensland there has been a Labor administration 
for ten years, however, with conditions more or less normal 
throughout; and certain things can be deduced from the 
The population of Queensland 


results. something less 


than a million —is scattered in meager units over its broad 
area, but the bulk of the people live in the capital city, 
Brisbane, and its environs. The Queensland Government 
has faced conditions essentially local, and that must be 
borne in mind in drawing conclusions from the results that 
have obtained. The ten years have been productive, in 
the main, of little change, and nothing essentially revolu- 
tionary has been accomplished. It has been a mauve 
rather than a red decade. The conditions under which 
workingmen live have been improved somewhat according 
to some estimates, but the administration generally has 
been rather inefficient. The improvement will prove tran- 
sitory if business initiative is held down by conditions, as 
at present. 

The outstanding feature is the distinctly narrow scale 
on which the principle of state ownership has been applied. 
There is a state insurance department which operates 
successfully without crowding the private companies out, 
a string of state butcher and fish stores, a few state fac- 
tories, state cattle stations, state mines and a government- 
controlled organization for the marketing and sale of farm 
produce. The fish and meat stores were the most spectacu- 
lar of the state enterprises, but, after an initial flurry when 
the population flocked in droves to take advantage of the 
lower prices offered, they have not upset the retail situa- 
tion in any very material way. The shops are located in 
the poorer sections of the various towns, and people soon 
tired of standing in long queues waiting for their turns 
Today the governmental stores do a reasonably large trade 
at prices a little below the scale of the private merchants. 
The trades unions are not interested in keeping down 
prices, however. Wages are based on living costs and the 
workingman cheerfully pays the standard price. The 
State Produce Agency was organized with an eye to pre- 
venting undue profits at the source, but little was effected 
in the way of reducing the farmer’s price. The farmer, 
after all, is a potent force at the polls and cannot safely be 
exploited for the benefit of the city dweller. 

Protection has been one of the main planks of the Labor 
Government. The trades unions, which dominate the 
administration, demand protection from outside compe 
tition and nonunion labor. Their policy is to foster home 
industries, and with that purpose in mind they are striving 
to cut themselves away from every vestige of dependence 
on outside sources, even for raw materials. It is this plan 
of isolation, combined with the lack of real efficiency in- 
evitably accompanying any form of state industrial con- 
trol, which threatens to slow up industry and make a 
retrograde movement inevitable. 

It is not possible yet to balance the scales. 
stands out: Radical government, after a ten-year test in an 
isolated and more or less economically independent country, 


But one fact 


has settled down to an administrative jog trot. It has 


found radical change either impossible or unnecessary. 












ees 


== 
- 


\ 
J 





a om 0 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





WHAT PRICE BRIBERY ? 


RIBERY and corruption are intrinsic to commercial 
bootlegging. The seducement of officialdom, great 
and small, commences in near-by foreign ports with 
the buying of fraudulent ship’s papers. It ends in the 
United States only after the cop on the beat has got his 
rake-off and after the jury fixer has finished his dirty work. 

Now, of course, the amateur automobilist can smuggle 
over an occasional case or two and the free-lance bottle 
fisherman may run ashore a few unprotected cases from 
time to time. But for the professional bootlegger who sur- 
vives and makes money, bribery is just as fixed and cal- 
culable a part of overhead as faked whisky, imitation 
bottles and counterfeit labels. 

In the case of the international smuggling rings, corrup- 
tion comes into play long before the liquor leaves the ports 
of some of our neighbors. False registration of vessels, 
fraudulent manifests and clearances, returns to port in 
ballast in ridiculously short time—all these little collusive 
accommodations have to be paid for directly or indirectly. 

Let’s get this clear at the outset. The trouble doesn’t 
lie with the European governments—especially with the 
first-class powers like England. England has consistently 
frowned upon the predatory machinations of her nationals, 
even when these operations have been technically within 
the law. The British Government has time and again gone 
out of its way to let Uncle Sam try to debooze the Western 
Atlantic in his own hit-or-miss fashion. The only real 
sticklers for the alcoholic freedom of the seas have been 
sundry American courts. And there is another angle. 
John Bull is properly and traditionally jealous of the kind 
of trade that receives the protection of the British flag. It 





PKAMP 
KOMTY 


By Walton Green 


Chief Prohibition Investigator 


doesn’t always lie so well in Downing Street when the 
Union Jack decorates the peak of a converted Gloucestér 
fisherman loaded with Belgium alcohol, owned by a bunch 
from Broadway, and manned by a crew of West Indian 
renegades. 

Still and all notwithstanding, there are today literally 
hundreds of vessels under foreign registry —chiefly schoon- 
ers—which are violating the laws of their own and this 
country. A large proportion of these vessels are, in fact, 
owned by American criminals, no matter what flag they 
fly. 

In an earlier article we traced the successive stages 
whereby the so-called Rum Row had been pushed off the 
ocean and back into the ports of our neighbors—to be 
brought from those ports by coasting vessels to hovering 
positions off our great shore markets. The great liquor 
dumps of today are in Canada and the West Indies. Let’s 
outline a few typical instances to show how these hovering 
schooners operate. 

A schooner clears a Canadian port, let us say, with a 
caryo of whisky consigned to Nassau. The fact that 
Nassau already has more stored-up liquor than the entire 


THE FIRST NIGHT IN CAMP 





Bahamas could drink in a hundred years is no bar to the 
proceeding, because the supersaturation of a given bunch 
of coral islands is no official business of Canada's, one way 
or the other. What happens is this. The master makes the 
Customhouse outward declaration—called a transire—and 
is cleared for Nassau. Then he sails blithely down the 
coast, unloads his liquor into contact boats a hundred 
miles or so off Montauk and sails right back again. 

When he reénters Canada he turns in his ship’s register 
and crew list and reports amiably, “I’m from the high 
seas—in ballast.”” Everything is all right and that ends 
it—except that he couldn’t possibly have done it; which 
all hands know only too well. The outward transire and 
the quick return in ballast from the high seas simply can't 
exist together. If Canada chose to check up she would 
find a false master’s oath on the outward declaration; and 
this not once, but twenty or more times a year for the 
same vessel. 

But Canada doesn’t check up. Canada winks. And the 
best that can be said is that the wink is sympathetic and 
economic rather than actually corrupt or paid for 

But in some parts of the West Indies collusion is softened 
neither by thirsty sympathy nor Anglo-Saxon apathy. It 
is on a strictly professional and cash basis—so much te 
wink, so much to close the eyes, so much more to become 
an active partner in the enterprise. The absent-minded 

tropical signature costs anywhere from $25 
to $500 gold; the amount varying with the 
rawness of the deal and the quantity of liquor 
that may be involved 


Continued on Page i47 








THE SATURDAY EVENING 





Christopher Voter, 
Who Will Always be 
Very Young 


With Apologies to Mr. A.A. 
Miine and Ever So Many 
Other People) 


HAD a ballot, 
[: nice long ballot, 
I went to mark it 
In the proper square. 
I wanted an issue, 
Some great big issue, 
And I looked for an issue 
Most everywhere. 


For I went to the Republic- 
ans, who showed me a 
record-— 

“Only a ballot for our fresh- 
made record!”’ 

“* Have you got an issue, ’cos 
I never care for records ?"’ 

But they hadn’t gol an 
issue, not anywhere there. 


I had a ballot, 
A nice long ballot, 
I wanted to mark it 

In the proper square. 
But I did want an issue— 
Just any little issue— 





POST 


August 14,1926 


ENCORES 





with notes. We _ learned 
that every little movement 








‘ ‘WEL y emede c 


ny 
%” YOUR FACE gl 





MOUTH~— ALL FOR $49. 56 








And I looked for issues 


Most everywhere. 


ORAWN BY MARGE 


And I went to the Progressives, who showed me a farm bill— 
“Now then! Ballot for our lovely farm bill!” 
‘Have you got an issue, ’cos I don’t count farm bills?”’ 

But they hadn’t got an issue, not anywhere there. 


I took my ballot, 

My nice long ballot, 

I tried to mark it 
In the proper square. 

I was finding my issue— 

I do like issues— 

And I hunted for my issue 
Most everywhere. 


So I went to the Democrats, who showed me some promises— 
“Walk up, walk up, all sorts of promises !”’ 
“Could I have an. issue, ’cos I’ve got lots of promises?”’ 

But they didn’t have an issue, not anywhere there. 


I had nuffin’ 
No, I hadn't got nuffin’, 
So I didn’t mark my ballot 
In the proper square. 
But I walked on the golf links— 


Awful Predicament of the Man Who Was Told to Meet His Wife at a Beauty Partor! 


The cold November golf links— 
And I saw little voters 
Most everywhere ! 


I’m sorry for the party now who sells fine records, 
I’m sorry for the party now who sells fine farm bills, 
I’m sorry for the party now who sells fine promises, 
’Cos they haven’t got an issue, not anywhere there. 
— Katharine Dayton. 


One or the Other 


“T HAVE been to Washington to see the President,” an- 
nounced the Hon. Thomas Rott. 
“Ah!” returned J. Fuller Gloom, the human hyena. 
“Were you appointed or disappointed?” 


A Modern Symphony 


ORMERLY, when those of us who lacked a musical 
education went to a concert, we mustered an I-just- 
love-that-number expression, glanced at our watches fre- 
quently and remonstrated with the children because they 
wriggled. Then came the lecture recital and the program 





Law:+Abiding Citizen 





4x 
, —£ YEBROWS & 


ARCHED, EVES WIDENED. CUPID'S Gow 


has a meaning all its own. 
We found out things that 
had been in the minds of 
the composers— things that 
doubtless would be great 
surprises to the composers 
themselves. This fad for 
knowing all about what a 
composition means having 
increased by leaps and 
bounds, there is no telling 
when we may go to a con- 
cert, pick up our programs 
and read something like 
the following: 





A Modern Symphony. 
This composition repre- 
sents a day in the life of J. 
Henry McGoofus. At the 
opening we hear the rattle 
of the snare drum, denot- 
ing the alarm clock that 
awakens Mr. McGoofus 
from his slumbers. There 
is an allegro movement in 
which the entire orchestra 
joins, it being evident that 
Mr. McGoofus is going 
through his setting-up ex- 
ercises. The morning-shave 
motif is introduced by an 
allargando strain, which is 
changed to an allegretto tempo as Mr. McGoofus goes 
down to breakfast. Breakfast is finished animato and Mr. 
McGoofus starts for the train, ben ritmato. He is, in fact, 
calmato and the morning to him is cantabile. There is a 
sudden, sharp note from the piccolo, telling us that the 
morning train is approaching. 

There follows a lively quickstep, as Mr. McGoofus 
rushes for the station. This becomes more stately, and 
finally we hear a dolcissimo movement as he settles into his 
favorite seat and opens his newspaper. There is a sus- 
tained legaio movement as the train sweeps on to the city. 
The music becomes forte, then fortissimo as the roar of the 
metropolis is encountered. There are sharp distinctions 
and a seesaw between the strings and the wood winds as 
traffic goes one direction and then another. Accompanied 
by a leggiero strain from the violins, Mr. McGoofus lightly 
escapes being run down by a truck and enters the building 
where his office is located. There is a long pause during 
which nothing is heard except the slow, steady beat of the 
bass drum. Mr. McGoofus is in conference and cannot be 
disturbed. 

Sudden activity on the part of the bass viol repels a book 
agent. Here Mr. McGoofus leaves the office, energico, and 











(Continued on Page 118) 


DRAWN BY DONALD MC KEE 


Householder: ‘‘Just Our Luck, to Have Two Rival Gangs of Bandits Invade 


the House at the Same Time!" 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


one 


2OUF 


% ¢-CAMPBELL SOUP COMBRNY :ir % 2 
CAMDEN, N. J, U.S-& ya . 
STP > 4 
2 


<—_ 3) > 


Hearty, healthtul, tempting Vegetable Soup ! 


Campbell’s Vegetable Soup! How popular 
it is! What a great need it answers 
for a hot, splendidly nourishing luncheon 
or supper that can be so easily prepared! 
How generous and welcome a part of 
the family dinner! Fifteen vegetables. 
Invigorating beef broth. Strength-giving 
cereals. Savory herbs. Delicious seasoning. 
And just the soup for the children! 


32 different ingredients, 12 cents a can 








SOUP 


for your 
family’s health 
W — the meal. or 


me: up bek ngs in te 
diet! Whe? We all kn 
that soup is delicious : 
tempting to the taste, that it 
a offers a fascir — variety of 
Ren : flavors not to be had in ar 
; - other food. But it is a m 
take to think of soup merely as a food t 
served or omitted from the meal as you please 
Soup should be served regularly, and not just 
occasionally. And for these reasons 
Every housewife knows that if the family 
appetites are good, her meals will be enjoyed 
She realizes that more than half her daily 
battle is won if those who assemble at her 
dining table are attracted at once by the food 
and start the meal eagerly. To win this vic- 
tory, good hot, appetizing soup is most helpful 
Soup is invaluable as a wholesome, healthful 
stimulant to the appetite. The blended flavors 
of many different ingredients in soup appeal 
instantly to the sense of taste, arouse it, make 
it vigorous and keen. 


O YOU see that serving soup regularly is 

one of the most important secrets of suc- 
cessful planning of the meals. Apart from the 
splendidly nourishing value of soup, which it 
shares with other foods, it helps to keep the 
appetite active and healthy. In doing this it 
also has a beneficial effect on the digestion. 
Soup causes the digestive fluids to flow more 
freely. The result is that food is eaten in 
greater quantity and assimilated into the body 
tissue more promptly. 

If every housewife only knew these facts 
about soup there wouldn’t be a home in 
America where soup was not served everi 
single day! Soup today is one of the most 
popular foods one of the great national dishés 
in the United States. But the utmost at- 
tractiveness in the family meals will not be 
obtained until soup is eaten by everybody, 
every day, for luncheon, dinner or supper. 

And so we make to you this suggestion 
Start now and serve soup every day for the 
next two weeks. See if it doesn’t make an 
immediate difference in the way your meals 
“go”. Notice how every member of your 
family responds—how much brighter and mot 
attractive your table seems to be. 


ISIT your grocer’s and familiarize yourself 
with all the delightful mer different kinds 
of soups you will find there, already prepared 
and cooked for you by makers of world-wide 
reputation. Tempting vegetable purees, such 
as Tomato, Pea, Celery, Asparagus and Bean 
Soups which, by the way, you will often serv 
as Cream Soups. I[learty substantial soups, 
such as Vegetable, Vegetable-Beef. Beef 
Ox Tail, Mock Turtle, Mulligatawny, Chicken 
Chicken-Gumbo, Pepper Pot, and Clam 
Chowder. Dainty clear sou; 
somme, Bouillon, Julienne, Printanier, Clam 
Bouillon. An almost endless variety 
Above all do not overlook soup as one of the 
ideal foods for your children! And what a help 
the different soups are to the mother so anxious 
to keep digestions sound and little bodies 
sturdy! The vegetable SOUDS, am d the cream 
soups especially, are splendid for the children. 


' 
, such as Con- 


With the meal or as a meal, 
soup belongs in the daily diet! 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Vv 
ANTY 


not entirely 





was 


surprised, 
but he was de- 
idedly upset. The 
pearl necklace had 
fallen in the center 
of the table di- 
rectly in front of 
where hesat. Thus 
placed, it was 
within easy reach 
of himself and the 
either 
his side 


woman on 
elbow at 
of the table. and 
of the three per- 
sons opposite, of 
Twining 
was on the right. 
And as J. J. had 
demonstrated, the 
pearls were within 


whom 


possible reach of 
any person there, 
having fallen to 
stream out in the 
long axis of the 
table. 

But even if 
Lanty had feit it 
to de- 





incumbent 
mand that they be 
found and restored 
anybody 
room, it 
The 
al- 
ready streaming 
out after Angela. 
Satterlee 
pressed his elbow. 
bluff- 


She 


before 
left the 
was too late. 
were 


guests 


Miss 


‘*Angela's 
ng again. 


couldn’t have 


August 14,1926 


By Henry C. Rowland 


ILLUSTRATED BY ANTON 


OTTO FISCHER 





temptation to de- 
fraud the Govern- 
ment or whoever 
might suffer from 
a clever piece of 
work. And I’ve 
known some 
women of the 
country’s cream to 
pull the rottenest 
sort of smuggling 
tricks. Sometimes 
I think that hon- 
esty is only a word 
and not an 
stract fact.” 

“Hope I'll never 
get that way. But 
this makes me 
rather sick be- 
cause, you see, Pax 
and I are the only 
strangers here.”’ 

‘“*Forget it 
Anybody with a 
grain of 
would spot 
two for 
the wood. 
was afraid 
might feel 
way and he 
all set to give you 
a fearful call down 
if you had tried to 
say anything of 
the sort.” 

“‘I felt that 
Well, let’s go and 
see what those two 
girls are up to.” 

They went into 
the clubhouse, not 


ab- 


sense 
you 
babes in 
Cliff 
you 
that 
was 


meeting anybody 
whom either of 








een anything 
But like Cliff, 
he’s a sport.” 

“Carrying the sportsmanly to an extreme, I'll say,” 
Lanty muttered. ‘And you and I were nearest them.” 

“T reached for them the moment the lights went out,” 
Miss Satterlee said, ‘but they were gone. Whoever got 
them must have been a fast worker.” 

‘Unless it was prearranged.” 

“They couldn't have known she was going to throw 
them on the table. Our talk started that.” 

Do you know what J think?” 
“What?” 
That J. J. whipped them up and passed them to Cliff 
to teach Angela a lesson. She’s quick as a flash—mentally 
physically. Very likely Angela suspects the same 
thing, and that’s why she takes it so calmly, though she'd do 
that Come on, Cliff’s waiting.” 

The others had already gone out on their ‘vay to the 
upper deck to the smoking and card room. Lanty wanted 
to talk to J. J. and so passed by Cliff, who was waiting by 
the door, smiling a little grimly at the jokes on the great 
For none of the guests appeared to take 
the disappearance of the pearls. They were 
who had met year after year, season after 
season, both winter and summer, in Florida and the North, 
personally but mutually 

hrough others of the same set as to be like a large family 
the members of which live apart, but between whom the 
spirit prey This would often account for the 

license of speech, startling to a stranger like 
Lanty he failed to find Pax or J. J. 

Miss Satterlee, who had lingered after the others to speak 
to Cliff, came up just then. ‘*They’ve slipped over to the 

lub foradance, fancy. J.J. can’t golong without a whirl.” 

“Who was witlgthem?” Lanty asked. 

“I don't know. “Perhaps they went alone. J. J. knows 
everybody over there and she doesn’t stand on ceremony. 
Resides, there isn’t any aboard this boat. They leave it in 

he frozen North.” 


and 


anyway. 


1ewe | robbery. 
seriously 
mostly pre ople 
only 


o weil acquainted not 


lannish ails 
well-bred 


Going above, 


‘Then let’s go over there ourselves,’ Lanty suggested, 


if you're sure it’s all right 


It Was a Perfect Example of Quick:Wittedness Backed by Strength, Skill and High Endeavor 


“Perfectly. They'll all be over as soon as they have 
coffee. Don’t you want yours?” 

“‘No—never take it.” 

“No more do I, unless I’ve got a lot of night work. 
Come along then.”” They went across the short gangplank 
to the wharf. Strains of music, full and stimulating, were 
coming from the yacht club. ‘‘Somebody’s having a party,” 
Miss Satterlee said. ‘‘That’s not the machine.” 

“I wish I felt easier in my mind, Miss Satterlee.” 

“So do I, Lanty. Cliff told me that he doesn’t know 
who's got those pearls. He laughed it off, said somebody 
was trying to be funny and that the pearls would show 
up presently, but I don’t think he’s entirely at ease.” 

Lanty paused before they reached the clubhouse and out 
of earshot of some loiterers outside. ‘‘ Why did his sister 
toss the pearls at him if they were real?” 

“T don’t know. You can never tell what’s in Angela’s 
mind and, of course, she hadn’t counted on the lights going 
off just at that moment. They may have been copies for all 
we know.” 

“‘Let’s hope so. But somehow I doubt it.” 

I don’t. I’m sure they were the real ones. Her moth- 
er’s. I know something about pearls. More than I do 
about Angela. But Cliff was rightin saying she likes to play 
with fire. The chances are she thought they’d be passed 
round the table and wanted to see what we'd all say and 
how each one would look when examining them. People 
are apt to give themselves away when anything of great 
value is placed in their hands.” 

“Yes,”” Lanty said slowly. “I know the look. That 
rotten Monte Carlo glare. It’s beastly.” 

“Well, Angela likes that sort of stuff. She’s like my- 
self —believes almost everybody’s got a price.” 

“T don’t agree with that.” 

“You're young and uncommonly clean of soul. But I’ve 
seen too much of the raw side, and the devil workings of 
money lust. My department doesn’t focus on other sorts 
of crime. I’ve seen master craftsmen of engravers and 
metallurgists with a long record of upright living fall for a 


them knew. As 
Miss Satterlee had 
said, there was a 
party in progress, though a comparatively small one. Then 
glancing at the dancers, of whom there were some score 
of couples, Lanty frowned. J. J. was twirling in and out 
with Twining, the girl doing a Charleston in masterly style, 
while Twining, rather heavily set but surprisingly agile, 
was likewise performing, and not so badly. Pax, not yet 
acquainted with this innovation, was dancing with a tall, 
dark, handsome man who looked about thirty and odd, 
graceful in the extreme. He was broad of shoulder, trim 
of waist and perfectly in accord with his lissom partner 

“So Twining brought them over,’’ Miss Satterlee mur- 
mured. ‘‘That’s his new buddy dancing with your sister 
Horace Dade, a native of this burg. First family down 
here, and all right enough so far as I know.” 

The music stopped just then. Dade, who appeared to be 
giving the party, led Pax over to the table where the others 
were assembling, presenting Pax to some of the guests 
J. J. and Twining joined them, the girl seating herself when 
Twining crossed the room to speak to a couple he knew 
Lanty, watching him, observed that after a few brief laugh- 
ing words Twining stepped outside. 

**Do you mind my leaving you for a second or two?”’ he 
asked Miss Satterlee. 

“I was going to suggest it. I’d like to know if he goes 
to his car. Don’t cross the floor. Go out and round.” 

Lanty followed her advice. In the bright lights he saw 
Twining's well-knit figure swiftly making its way to the 
head of the pier. Then before Lanty could step out of the 
glare Twining turned, recognized him and paused. 

“Hello, Lanty. Lookingfor Pax? She’sinside. She and 
J. J. wanted to dance. Be with you in a moment. I want 
to tell my chauffeur not to wait. Friend of mine wants to 
take me home with him.” 

Lanty walked up to where he stood. ‘I say, Mr. Twin- 
ing, I wish you'd give me a little dope about that string of 
pearls.” 

Twining laughed. ‘‘Good Lord, Lanty. Don't let that 
bother you. Somebody trying to get a rise out of Angela.”’ 


Continued on Page 34) 





= a em 


Co 
= 


a 
SS 


wf Z f 


Ya == 


Se é 
yvwwv 


~ 
Mvy 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


> Ww 


Swift 


Premium 


_ 


Baco 


bs) 


lice 


tea 





N / 
ie 


i 


ay 
WEEP iN 
REFRIGERATOR 


OME prefer Premium Bacon as it is 
shown here—in the convenient pound 
and half pound cartons, evenly sliced, 
free from all rind and ready for cooking. 
Others, in order to have a supply always 
on hand, buy it a whole piece at a time 
in the original parchment wrapper 


Especially good with salads for 
summer luncheons and suppers 


To women who plan their hot 
weather meals with care, it is the 
main course that presents the 
greatest problem. It must be at once 
dainty enough to rouse summer 
appetites and substantial enough 
to provide generous nourishment. 
Many have found a delightful and 
simple solution in special ways of 
serving Premium Bacon. 


With tomato, lettuce or cucum- 
ber salad—with almost any vege- 
table or fruit salad—the savory 


richness of Premium Bacon adds a 
particularly pleasing relish. And 
the broiled slices, so unusually light 
and tempting, furnish just the solid 
food that is needed for luncheon or 
supper. You will be delighted, too, 
with Premium Bacon in sandwiches 
—either with plain bread and but- 
ter or with tomatoes and salad dress- 
ing. This choice bacon comes in the 
whole piece, and also in convenient 
pound and half pound cartons, 
evenly sliced, and free from rind. 


Swift & Company 


Premium Hams and Bacon 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Continued from Page 32) 

‘Well, I don’t like it. They fell right in front of me, and 
I'm not one of the crowd.” 

‘““You are now, on my say-so. I’ve known them all for 
years, and besides, any fool could see that you were the 
right sort.” 

“Mr. Twining, were those pearls real?” 

“Blest if I know. They looked real enough on Angela, 
and I’ve seen her wear them many times. But she might 
had them copied, at that. Lots of women do, and 


nave 


they make such clever reconstructions nowadays that it 
takes an expert to tell them apart. Just you forget it. I 


say, Lanty 

“Yes?” 

‘“‘T want you and Pax to be my guests down at the Beach. 
I’ve got a bully little bungalow.” 

‘Thank you, sir, but we’re rather keen about the boat. 
Like the life’ It’s no end jolly and foot-loose.” 

‘Well, we'll talk about it later. Somebody may grab 
J. if I don’t hurry back. There’s a girl 
I’m onto you now, but 


my dance with J. 
for you, boy! A live special wire. 
what did you do with that mustache?” He gave a laugh. 

Lanty hoped that his fiush was not apparent. ‘“‘That 
was J. J.’s idea. She didn’t want to stop and talk, so she 
smeared me with her eyebrow pencil.” 

“Like J. J.,” and laughed again. “I'll get her for that. 
Well, see you shortly.” 

He turned and hurried to where a car was waiting. Or 
as Lanty teld himself, where it might or might not be wait- 
ing. He would have liked to assure himself on this point, 
but could not see just how to do so without making a 
démarche which, as he quickly decided, was not yet advis- 
able. Twining would be certain to see him snooping about. 

As he turned to walk back to the clubhouse Cliff’s voice 
called from the Hyacinth. 

“Oh, Lanty. Come here a minute, will you?” 

Lanty walked quickly to the yacht. Cliff had come out 
on the wharf. In the glare of light Lanty saw that his face 
was set in hard and rigid lines. 

“Where was Twining going?” 


“To send away his car,’’ he said. 

“Send it away? He’s got a chauffeur?” 

“Must have. Maybe it’s a taxi.” 

Cliff said, as if to himself, ‘‘ Why should he have ordered 
a taxi right after dinner. Lanty, I want you to tell me 
something. Have you any idea who grabbed up my sister’s 
pearls? Did you hear or see anything when the lights were 
out?” 

“Nothing significant. It was too dark and there was 
too much noise. Miss Satterlee told me she grabbed for 
the pearls as soon as she’d got her wits together, but some- 
body had beat her to it.” 

“Did you see anything when I struck a match?” 

“Only that Twining seemed to be standing back of his 
chair.” 

“Yes, he threw that napkin. But how about my sister? 
I couldn’t see Angela because of the flower centerpiece.” 

“‘T didn’t look her way, Cliff’; and Lanty burst out im- 
petuously, “‘ This is pretty rotten for me, an outsider.” 

“‘Now don’t start anything like that.”’ Cliff’s voice was 
austere. ‘All of my guests’’—he emphasized the ‘‘all”’ 
“‘are above suspicion of course. But my steward and elec- 
trician are new men this voyage. The steward was at this 
moment serving Miss King, directly opposite where you sat. 
That’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

“‘The pearls were real, of course,”” Lanty said. 

“Undoubtedly. I haven’t had a chance to talk to An- 
gela. I made my mistake in not jumping up and grabbing 
the steward. He'd slipped out to get lights. I thought at 
first that somebody was trying to get funny. One hates to 
make a sudden row.” 

“That's easily understood.” 

Cliff was silent for a moment, then said, ‘‘ Angela could 
have reached them easily. J. J. demonstrated that.” 

They were standing at the end of the gangway. From 
the upper-deck smoking room, of which the windows were 
opened but screened, came a chatter of talk. Then in a 
pause Angela’s voice said, ‘‘ Who wants to dance?” 

“All of us. Let’s go.” 


“You people go ahead. I’ll follow.” 


August 14,1926 


Cliff took Lanty’s elbow and drew him back some paces 
to where steps went down to the landing. 

“Wait a minute.” 

The guests trooped down onto the pier and made for the 
clubhouse. Then after they’d disappeared Angela came 
out of the door of the main deckhouse, stepped onto the 
pier and walked rapidly toward its head. Coming to where 
the others had entered, she kept straight on. At the same 
moment Twining’s white shirt front gleamed out as he 
approached from the opposite direction. He and Angela 
met, although Twining’s figure was partly obscured by 
Angela, who appeared to be very close to him. Lanty got 
an impression as of their shaking hands. Angela turned 
then and they went into the yacht club together. 

Cliff said shortly: ‘‘Say nothing to anybody about this, 
please, Lanty, and don’t worry. It’s all right—so far’s 
you’re concerned. Now goand dance. I’ve got some work 
to do aboard.” 

Vv 

AX and Lanty, breakfasting heartily aboard their boat 

about ten of the morning, were greeted by a cheery hail. 
They looked out, to see J. J., very fresh and vivid in a white 
crépe de chine costume that was businesslike, yet of an 
outing sort. Behind her stood an elderly negro in a quasi 
uniform of manservant. He had just set down an English 
fitted bag. 

“If you’d thought you’d got rid of me, then guess again. 
I’ve engaged myself to pilot you down river through the 
canal to St. Augustine.” 

“Grand,” said Lanty. ‘Been dreading that bad spot by 
the old sawmill. We don’t want to lose our screw on a 
sunken log.” 

“T know ’em all by name. Let’s get off before Hyacinth. 
Did you enjoy the party?” 

“‘All but the missing pearls,’ Pax said. ‘‘That joke got 
past me, and Lanty shuts me up when I speak of it.” 

“Perhaps he scoffed ’em,”’ J. J. said. “It is a little raw 
to have a string of pearls disappear that way and nobody 
give heed. As if they'd been five-and-ten stuff.” 

~ (Continued on Page 66) 














They Held on Down the Canal, and Went Through the Woods With Always Their Dark Shadow Astern 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 35 


things from your Ford lubrication. 
Starting alone isnt enough. 


The smoother starting and stopping which follow 
the use of today ’s Mobiloil ss in your Ford envine 
result from the ability of this oil to keep the trans- 
mission bands soft and pliable. The band surfaces 
do not become hardened and glazed. Thus jerky 
action in starting and stopping is ended. 


j 


Even more important: The life of the bands 1 
? , j ° ; ; 
gre atly increased. Lhus re lacement cost ts lowered— 
a very substantial saving. 


You should get the greatest obtainable freedom 
from carbon, too-- because -- 








Only such an oil will give you quiet operation, 
fullness of power, free valve action, clean spark 
plugs and general smooth running. 

To combine this freedom trom carbon with free- 
dom from glazed bands in Ford lubrication has 
taken years of study on the part of the Mobiloil 
engineers and chemists. 








In this combined eftect, we sincerely believe that 
the Mobiloil ‘““E”’ of today is unequaled. 


/ * 
Mu _ 
iM 
>. y # 


4. he An economical demonstration 
Make this, \ cr, 
SS aC H A R Teo It will cost you only a little over a dollar to hil 
ye MAL your guide AP x your Ford crankcase with the new Mobiloil ‘‘! 
Se - BS Any Mobiloil dealer will be glad to assist vou in 
discovering for yourself the new smoothness of 
FICHE correct grades of Gargoyle Mobiloil for By. . gent 
‘} ngine lubrication of prominent passenger operation that follows the use of this unique lubri 


cating oil in your Ford car. 





NAMES OF | sees “de 


Mobiloil) = =Mobiloil 


| | | Make the chart your guide | 


\ \ 
\ 


Ar \ . ——— 
eee \, Wink’ ; v 
EJF I SK iy » os? 2 
BB] BB BB} Saw . Seer 
A Arve HL" : 
S \ 4 ‘5 : M. ¢ 









































Headquarters: 61 BROADWAY, NEW YORK 


Vacuum Oil Company jee oic. Chiuen ke 























‘L have served 
this drink 


to 500000 
people 


\M a food demonstrator—a 
humble calling, you may think. 


But I don’t think so. Because my work helps 
people by the thousands, to better health and 
greater happiness. 


I “demonstrate” Postum. | spend some time 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 


at Expositions and Food Fairs, and the rest of 
the year here at Battle Creek. People visit me 
from every State in the Union. I personally pre- 
pare Postum for each one, and serve it. After a 
sip or two they usually say, “Mrs. Blanchard, 
this is the finest drink I ever tasted.”’ 


They seem surprised because Postum is so good. 
They possibly have been thinking of it as ‘“some- 
thing for sick folks’’—like a patent medicine. 
How absurd! Of course Postum is good for the 
sick, but it’s even better to help people keep well. 
Why shouldn’t it have a wonderful flavor? It is 
made of wonderful materials—whole wheat and 
bran, skillfully blended and roasted. 


How much better to enjoy Postum at meal- 
time, than a drink containing caffein—an artificial 
stimulant. A stimulant every school child is 
taught to avoid! 

You try Postum, too! Try it for thirty days— 
long enough to show results. Note how much 
better you look, how much better you feel, at the 
end of the test. Then decide! 


I will start you on the test with one week’s 





“Pp és 

P. stum is one of the Post Health Products, which include also Grape-Nuts, P« 
Post’s Bran Ct ate. Your grocer sells Postum in two forms. Instant Postum 
the world Postum 


to prepare Cereal is als 


made in the « 


easy to make, but should be boiled 20 minutes. 


st Toasties (Double-thick Corn Flakes), Post’s Bran Flakes and 


ap by adding boiling water, is one of the easiest drinks in 


August 14,1926 


“ 
an, ie 
PAB 4. 


. 


hy 


free supply, and my personal directions for pre- 
paring it. I’ll tell you, too, about Postum made 
with milk, for children—and Jced Postum, a 
wholesome, refreshing drink for warm days. 


Or if you want to begin the test today, get 


Postum at your grocer’s. It costs much less than 


most other hot drinks—only one-half cent a cup! 


You can be free of the effects of caffein—easily ! 
Make the thirty-day test right away! 


Camit Plancharch 


© 1926, P.C. Co. 


MAIL THIS COUPON NOW! 





P.—S.E. P. 6-26 
Postum Cereat Co., Inc., Battle Creek, Mich 
I want to make a thirty-day test of Postum. Please send me, 
without cost or obligation, one week’s supply of 
Instant Postum 
(prepared instantly in the cup) 
Postum CereaL 
(prepared by boiling) 


you 


Name 
Street 


City State 





In Canada, address Canaptan Postum Cereat Co., Ltd. 


45 Front St., East, Toronto 2, Ontario 

















THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


HAT makes Johnny so bad? And 

by Johnny, you understand, | 

mean the apparently healthy, 
normal lad, thousands of whom all over the 
land are today stepping out on careers of crime or of 
distinctly antisocial behavior, which, if unchecked, will 
inevitably, in the course of time, land them in the refor- 
matories, the jails and state prisons, to be locked up as 
hardened offenders for a good portion of their natural 
lives. 

This young Johnny of whom I am speaking, let it be 
stated most emphatically at the outset, is not a moron. 
Far from it. This Johnny of ours knows beans when the 
bag is open, and often when it is shut. His intelligence and 
educational tests reveal a normal quantity of intelligence or 
even a distinct superiority. So far as his mental equipment 
is concerned he may become a president or a criminal. He 
is therefore worth saving. Worth more to the community 
out of jail than in—if we can turn that intelligence into 
productive channels before criminal patterns of behavior 
have starnped his nature like a die. 

As to his social status, Johnny may come from a multi- 
miilionaire family with a princely allowance and number- 
less menials to obey his slightest caprice, or he may come 
from a well-to-do family in the professional or business 
class, or he may come from a poor, struggling family where 
every nickel counts. He may go off the deep end into 
crime, either from the extreme bottom of the social ladder, 
or from the extreme top, or from the middle rungs. With- 
out doubt you can all name particular examples in your 
own community of lads who have had everything, who 
have had nothing, who have had enough, and who still 
have taken the wrong turning of life’s road. Scientifically 
there is nothing in the contention so dear to socialists’ and 
sentimentalists’ hearts that material poverty is the greatest 
single wellspring of crime, or its equally unscientific cor- 
ollary: Remove poverty, remove crime. Flatly, that’s 
not true. At least not in America. It’s emotional poppy- 
cock. Medical science has a big word to say on this point. 
And it says that grave conduct disorders in youth which 
lead, if unchecked, into crime, have as their greatest under- 
lying cause, not poverty, but some form of family dishar- 
mony. 


When Johnny Develops a Moral Limp 


“TT IS not so much the economic pressure in the home,” 

says a well-known psychiatrist, ‘‘as the psychological 
strain, which causes the great majority of behavior difficul- 
ties. A child can endure going without material things 
vastly better than he can endure going without intelligent 
love, affection, family harmony. It is the disturbance in 


his emotional milieu, rather than in his material environ- 
ment, which causes the damagt 
in confirmation of this point 


I shall give you some 
figures from medical science 
later on. 

But no matter what his social status, no matter how su- 
perior his mental equipment, the fact remains that Johnny 
is indubitably a problem child. Why is that bright little 
atom of humanity who looks you so straight in the eye a 
liar and a thief? Why did he rob the cash register or hold 
up the department store with a gun? Why does he play 
hooky from school, rebel at teachers’ authority, sleep out 
all night with the gang, try to kill a little girl who squealed 
on him, brutally knock down his mother, lie in wait to 
“‘get”’ his father or the cop who arrested him, and glory in 
his toughness and the number of times he has been up be- 
fore the judge? 

Why is he so savage, suspicious, moody, irritable, pilfer- 
ing, bumptious, arrogant, given to wild tantrums or fits of 
black, murderous rage, boasting to his companions that he 
is a young Napoleon of crime? Is it sheer innate cussed- 
ness and original sin bubbling up in that dark, mysterious 
little mind of his, that terra incognita to the average adult 
mind? Is he, as the good old Puritan dogma had it, among 
those eternally predestined to be damned, with his ticket 
to perdition punched for him before ever he was born? In 
short, how did he get that way? And what are we going to 
do about it anyhow? 

If Johnny develops a bad limp his anxious parents take 
him straightway to a doctor to discover what is wrong. 
They realize, even the most ignorant of them, that it is not 
original sin or innate wickedness which makes Johnny limp; 
the limping is simply a sign, a symptom, of some physical 
defect or disease; and instead of beating him up or locking 
him down cellar or warning him that God will burn him up 
forever and ever like a carbonized beefsteak, they take him 
to the doctor for treatment. They understand that 
limping is a symptom, like running a tempera- 
ture, of some underlying trouble. It is Johnny’s 
way of advertising to the world that something is 
wrong. Very often it requires months of treatment, 
iron braces, plaster casts, diet and massage to 
cure Johnny of that limp, but the time, money and 
scientific treatment expended in making him nor- 
mal are generally considered worth while. 

But when Johnny develops a limp mentally or 
morally or emotionally; when his behavior appears 
wicked, vicious or disgusting to his 
parents, teachers and adult friends; 


hanging Johnny's Behavior 


By ELIZABETH FRAZER 


time Ni 


doing by 


ig by his extraordinary or atrocious 


advertising to the world 
that something Nas gone wrong in his « 


What it 
a aoctor, an more 


Wigwagying 


doesn t know; how 


if he suffered 


is Johnny 


limp? 

But 
running a temperature, 
mp 
the invisible members of that part of him w 


ohnny is flying behavior signals 
so to speak, in 
not of the body, whict 


betraying a | 


The Crooked Path for Self:-Expression 


H" IS in the position of asturdy little plant growing under 
a stone which presses and weighs it down so that it grow 
crooked and askew Science calls that procs ompensa 
tion, meaning that since the pressure of the stone prevent 


straight, normal growth, Nature, life, the vital power, cal 


it what you will, takes another, compensating path——-th 
lf 


for se dn't take the 


expression. If it d 


The plant does not know the 


crooked path 
crooked path it would die 


stone is on its chest any more than Johnny does; both are 


up against it; both are blindly seeking a way out; both 
are going to grow up to a crooked maturity 
It must be remembered ir 


Johnny’s case that the stone is invisible—invisible to 


unless some 
thing is done about the stone. 
Johnny as well as to his adult friends. S« with groy 

ing hands, is only just beginning to get its grasp on that 


lence, 


imponderable obstacle and to say ‘I can't see 
it, but I know it’s there because of Johnny's behavior signs 


of the 


invisible, 


just as the behavioristic rustl tree leaves betrays 


the invisible wind.”’ 
Refore the keen-eyed battalion of medical 
tered this field—a field still so new and unexplored that 


mentists en 


Continued on Page 165 





Have Alt 


Study of 


Thus Far the Examinations 
Been Largety Objective a 


the Various Forces Playing on Johnny 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 








. 
% 


& 


y Ro OM will respond to the 
ma Lol "ae? if CO / O aoe and how easily and inexpensively 


it can be employed now! 














; Below is the““HoLLanp design, 
¢ \F course you recognize the magic It’s the floor—decorators will tell Gold Seal Rug No. 594—blue 
‘ j 4 ee az : and white Dutch Tiles with a 
of color. You’ve often seen cold you—that should provide the color quaint windmill border. 
north rooms that appeared warm and_ keynote for every room, as it does in ; 
sunny because of the generous use of these two illustrations. For this color 
yellows, tans and golden browns—and_ keynote you will find Congoleum Go/d 
sunny, south rooms “cooled” with Sea/ Art-Rugs ideal. They have always 
greens, blues, grays and violet. been famous for their good looks, prac- 

: ticality and economy—and today their 
But perhaps you have hesitated to ee . 
Rew . patterns are more artistic than ever be- 
attempt such transformations in your ¢ 
fore, with so much decorative value 


home, because you thought they would ; ’ Nps 
: ; that they offer a most helpful basis for 


prove too expensive! If so, you need 
. sale the decorative scheme. 

wait no longer. For now, at trifling 

cost, you can buy curtains, upholstery, Every Gold Seal Art-Rug pattern— 

fabrics—even floor-coverings—in the from the simplest geometric to the most 

loveliest and most artistic colors and elaborate Oriental motif—has a dis- 

patterns imaginable. tinctive atmosphere of colorful charm. 


Below is the“‘KurpDISTAN’ design, 
Gold Seal Art-Rug No. 560— 
reproduction of an Oriental 
pattern in taupe and brown. 


Fill out the coupon below for your copy 
of Color Magic in the Home by Anne Pierce. 

Miss Pierce shows how Gold Seal 
Art-Rugs may be fitted into different 
color schemes. Their money, time and 
work saving qualities have long been 
admitted by all. For only occasional 
light mopping keeps them spotless and 
—though they require no fastenings 
they never curl at the corners. 





At the new low prices, Go/d Seal Art- 
Rugs are the outstanding floor-covering 
value on the market today. Sizes range 
from small mats up to 9 x 15 foot rugs. 

COoNGOLEUM-NAIRN INC. 
Boston Chicago Kansae 
francisco Atlanta Minneapoli 


I rlean Cleveland Rio de Janeiro 
In Canada—Congoleum Canada Limited, Montreal 


THIS GOLD SEAL pasted on the 


face of every genuine Congoleum 
ONGOLEUM Gold Seal Art-Rug, guarantees 
eoeeeer “Satisfaction or Your Money 


GOLD SEAL Back.” Millions of women, u ho 


GUARANTEE have learned the quality,value and 


SATISFACTION GUARANTEED dependability that this guarantee 
OR YOUR MONEY BACK means, always look for it on the 


rugs they buy. 





+ 





™ 





FREE ~ Valuable Decoration Booklet 


CONGOLEUM-NAIRN INC. 


1421 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. 
Kindly send me a free copy of Anne Lewis Pierce’s inter- 
esting booklet “Color Magic in the Home.” é 


Art-RuGS 


























THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


GETTING ON IN Til WOR 


Tempera: 
ment and 
Turnover 


FRIEND of 
mine, 
whom I'll 
call George Hill, 
is a man of vigor 
and ambition, 
possesses con- 
siderable mental 
driving force and 
is one of the most 
courteous and 
considerate per- 
sons among my 
acquaintances. It 
must, therefore, 
seem paradoxical 
when I declare 
that Hill has a 
reputation among 
certain people for 
boorishness, is 
.commonly sup- 
posed to lack the 
capacity for be- 
ing decent and 
has recently 
experienced a considerable lapse of fortune because of it. 

When the man was named head of the New York office 
of the concern with which he was connected, the action was 
warmly commended, for George was conceded one of the 
most promising of the younger executives. Increasing 
responsibilities, however, seemed to evoke and magnify a 
certain defect of character: Habituated to self-restraint, 
he seemed unable to control the sudden flaming of his 
temper. 

If a visitor happened to be announced during these out- 
bursts he would likely be met with a savage ‘‘ What do you 
want?” Or maybe with a still more uncivil “‘I have no 
time to consider silly nonsense. Get out of here.” 

The climax of the situation was reached with the ar- 
rival of the company’s Paris representative. He called up 
George on the telephone. 

“‘You want to pay your respects?”’ repeated Hill. ‘This 
is a business office, not a social organization.’’ Bang went 
the receiver. 

This little incident cost the man his job, for it so hap- 
pened that the head of the Paris office met the president 
of the concern the very next day. When more important 
matters had been dismissed and the men were chatting, the 
visitor casually asked, ‘‘ What kind of a man is this fellow 
Hill, of the New York office?”’ 

“Why do you ask?”’ queried the president. The story 
of the telephone conversation was related. Just as it is the 
last straw that is said to break the camel's back, it was this 
incident that caused the president to make a decision he 
had long been contemplating. There had been at least a 
dozen previous complaints of Hill’s brusqueness and in- 
civility, and since it was realized that a man who has been 
a captain rarely makes a good private, he was entirely 
divorced from the firm. 

There is many a man who, in a fit of bad temper, has 
thrown away the golden opportunities of a lifetime. How 
often have you heard a boast something like this: ‘‘I guess 
the boss thought I had no backbone, but I told him just 
what I thought of him and his job—snapped my fingers 
right under his nose. I'll bet he felt foolish with everyone 
looking on and wishing they had enough nerve to do the 
same.” 

Not a few men are failures because of this propensity to 
boil over. They no sooner get established in a position 
than anger commits them to some foolish and irrevocable 
step. Then, instead of advancement where they are, 
they must find opportunity elsewhere. All employers 
know the type. 

I have had at least one experience with persons of this 
breed. Paul Varrish—not his real name—was one of the 
college graduates who had been inthe employ of our organ- 
ization about two years and who, by an exhibition of 
brains and grit, had been definitely named for further re- 
sponsibilities. Then one day he was assigned to a task 
commonly given to the callowest of the budding executives. 
There was nothing personal in the matter; the work had 











Pas 


At the W orkinpmans 
House Hunper looks 
in but does not inter 


POOR RICHARDS 
ALMANAC 





to be done and there was no one else available. Varrish 
chose to construe it as an insult, and in the heat of his 
anger walked from the office. 

It was a week before we saw him again and his return 
was sheepish enough. The hint he longed to hear was not 
uttered, for the president of the company, learning about 
the matter, declared it was just such hair-trigger-tempered 
men who could not be depended upon. ‘‘Let him go,” he 
declared. ‘‘Such birds usually leave about the time spring 
business begins to roll in like an avalanche.” 

I, however, liked the fellow and called him into my office 
and gave him a bit of advice, which, I presume, he did not 
soon forget. 

For eight months Varrish walked the streets; then he 
took a position in a company similar to our own. Again the 
young fellow prospered, for he seemed to have just the 
proper poise of mind and temperament to succeed. About 
a year and a half after he had left us I was surprised to see 
him enter my office. 

“‘Do you think they'd let bygones be bygones and let 
me have my old job back again?”’ he asked. “I’m dis- 
gusted. I’m going back to the office and tell the boss just 
what I think of him. I won't stay with the Welton Com- 
pany another day.” 

“You are only going to make a fool of yourself again,’ 
I said sternly. ‘‘Don’t dare go near your office. The best 
thing you can do is to take the very next train for the 
country or seashore. Spend a day or two doing nothing, 
consider the situation, and then if you feel the way you do 
now, it won't be too late to speak your mind.” 

When I saw Varrish again he had just been promoted to 
an important position. Shaking my hand warmly, he de- 
clared, ‘‘That was the best advice anyone ever gave me. 
If I'd gone back to the office that afternoon I suppose I'd 
be walking the streets hunting another job.” 

Temperament is by no means confined to employes. 
There are plenty of employers whose organizations, in the 
last analysis, are selected for their mollifying characteristics. 
I know of a certain manufacturer who had to hire three 
men before he could get an office manager capable of en- 
during his peccadillos. With seemingly equal abilities the 
first was fired, the second quit and the third, hardened and 
impervious to little insults and incivilities, seems to have 
become a right-hand man. 


Temperament 
goes not exist 
solely in the ar- 
stic 


] ‘ 


yniy more at 


worid; it 


home there 


J. L. MILLER. 


Peddling 
Bonds 


YOT long ago 
I I saw the fol 
lowing dig daubed 
transpar- 
ency in a parade 
of college alumn 
the 


1 fehot 
tnroes of their first 


upon a 


who were in 


annual reunion 
“We graduated 
69 civil engineers 
59 of them are in 
the bond 


ness.”’ 


busi 


Today, at odd 
moments, it 
bobbed to the 
forelock as I sat 
listened to 
Hollar, who had dropped in from up the state. He did 
not want a job. He sells investment bonds. I met him 
first shortly after the war. There was little you could mer 
tion he hadn't sold; in his sphere a sort of Lightnin’ Bil! 
Jones. 


and 


“Books? How did you make out with them?” I had 
asked him then. 

“All right. When I was on the road if I didn’t sell I 
didn’t eat; and I always ate,”” had been his rejoinder. 

Today he sells public utility, railroad and municipal 
bonds and, occasionally, the preferred 
established companies, as well as supervising the work of 


stock of well- 


other salesmen in his territory 

“Well, what do you think of the game after six years?’ 
I asked. 

Legs crossed, he settled back in his chair. “I'll tell you 
In many respects it’s like selling anything else; then again 
it isn’t. But if you have any young men on your lists who 
are considering going into it, tell them, for me, it’s a tough 
road. I don’t know of a harder one for green men. 

“First of all, you’re not selling a commodity, something 
a man can see and order by sample or trade-mark. You're 
selling the most intangible thing I know you're 
asking a man to exchange his money for an engraving, and 
for all he knows he may be buying a dog license. When you 
talk to a prospect who has never bought bonds it’s like 
collecting a war loan to get him to come through, even 
when you’ve been in the game as iong as I have. It took 
me a year to eighteen months to work up any kind of 
clientele and I needed all the encouragement and leads the 
office could give me. I didn’t make a sale the first two 
months. 

“The biggest mistake I made at the outset was in trying 
to sell to my friends, the same mistake hundreds, yes, thou- 
sands of new men are making today. I wasted 
weeks. 


“There ought to be a law passed”’ 


creait;: 


weeks and 


he stepped on his 
cigarette—‘‘a law prohibiting green salesmen in this busi- 
ness calling on their friends. It would benefit all hands, 
the salesmen, their friends, and the houses that give them a 
drawing account; but the salesmen most of all. The psy- 
chology is all against them for the simple reason that their 
friends know they’re green and, therefore, know as little as 
they probably do about what they're trying to sell. Of 
course I sold to several friends after I'd 
about the business, but I’d have done better for myself and 
the house if I’d avoided them at the start and taken my 
bumps from people who didn’t know me. 

“T was lucky, though, to connect with a first-flight 
house instead of one of the fly-by-nighters. I came down 
in the train last night with a clean-cut youngster who gave 
me an earful; he’s quitting a house today. He hadn't even 
taken the time to get a line on them through his bank 
simply answered their ad for salesmen and fell for the 
mahogany furniture and the big commissions 


learned more 


(Continued on Page 45 





40 


Watch This 


Column 








| liness which holds no secrets from its 


at This Theatre 1 


“Why don’t you suggest to 
the exhibitors that they should 
include Universal Jewel Productions in 
their advertisements?” writes a picture 
follower, Frederick C. Sutherland of 1124 
Trenton St., Los Angeles, Cal. 


He then goes on to say: 
“Then, by reading the ads we ‘fans’ 
could know beforehand that we were 
going to see a really worth-while picture, 
instead of perhaps a weak, shallow, spine- 
less mess.” 


I am grateful to Mr. Suther- 
land for his interest and to the 
hundreds of others who have written me 
along the same lines. In the thousands of 
letters that I receive this is a note that 
comes up most frequently. 


But there is nothing I can 
do about it. It is up to the theatre 
owners, and YOU. | can’t influence the 
exhibitor’s advertising. 


I can tell him I think it is 


foolish not to let the millions of 
Saturday Evening Post readers know when 
he is showing a Universal Jewel Produc- 
tion, but the real influence must come 
from you. 


If you will let your local 


theatre man know that you want 
him to advertise when he has a Universal 





Jewel—he will do it. The exhibitor is the 
most willing public servant there is. He 
wants your good will, and will respond to 
almost any request you make. 


I am proud of the Universal 


Jewels that will come to you this 
Fall, so proud that I have named them 
the GREATER MOVIE LIST. I don’t 
want you to miss seeing ‘‘Poker Faces,’’ 
‘‘The Marriage Clause,’’ ‘‘The Old 
Soak,” ‘‘The Whole Town’s Talking,’’ 
or any of the many exceptionally worth- 
while productions of the GREATER 
MOVIE LIST. 


Your advice and sugges- 


tions are always welcome and I 
will be glad indeed to answer. 


( arl Laem mle 
‘ : President 


(To be continued next week) 


Send 10c¢ each for autographed photograph of Laura 
La Plante, Reginald Denny and Hoot Gibson 


UNIVERSAL 
PICTURES 


730 Fifth Ave., New York City 





| a man’s liver’s hurt, he’s hurt. 


THE SATURDAY 


judging that the gallery would delight to 
watch for this year, and roused in them 


' such a determination to show that gallery 


that they owned no such weakness that 
they would unconsciously lean over back- 
ward in maintaining their uprightness in 
this regard. 

For what that paragraph in Dog 
Monthly, under the guise of genial com- 
mentary, really said, was this: 

The doubtful charm of bulldog ugliness is 
always doubled by the time-worn device of put- 
ting him on beauty’s leash. Except for this, 
Mrs. Somner-Olkin’s grand borzoi, Astronov 
Krilatka, would have walked off with the big 
A. K. A. award last year at the Garden. This 
year the wolfhound will have the same handicap 
to overcome, for without doubt a feminine love- 
ublic will 
again be called to bulldog colors. he judges 
are the same, and there is not much question 
that as long as A. K. A. 2 arbiters as sus- 
ceptible as high-school boys to the charms of 
Thespian ladies, the blue for the climax special 
of the dog year will be awarded according to 
allurements stronger than mere excellence of dog 
flesh. 


Well might young Becky de Havin hope 


| to kiss a pig. Dark-of-the-moon work at 


the crossroads, as we say. But at the same 


| time a challenge to the wits of A. Beckwith 


de Havin, III, which he accepted with 
alacrity. 


It was on the evening of the day before 
the final judging of the A. K. A. classic that 
Slugs O’Boyle took on the rising young 


| heavy, Tinner Binns, throwing such a gear- 


busting monkey wrench into the Tinner’s 
works that it took two years of lusty youth 
for the repairs necessary to get that promis- 
ing young glove shooter back into the race 
toward the top spot again. As usual, Mr. 
O’Boyle had come up from behind after 
eight rounds of taking it which had made 
no noticeable improvement upon his bovine 
beauty, and in the ninth round slugged the 
Tinner to the canvas. As usual, the Baiter 
had baited his opponent into reckless rage. 
It took eight rounds of withering insults to 
do it—eight rounds of blistering comment 
on the Tinner’s entire family connection, 
father, mother, brother, three sisters and 
his sweetheart. For seven rounds the Tin- 
ner weathered the sulphurous gale, but in 
the eighth Slugs started in to discuss the 
Tinner’s dog. Now if you want to see some 
little, wizened, shrimp-souled, half portion 
of a man rise up to knightliness and give 
you the clawing of your young career, just 
take a small kick at his mongrel pup. The 
Tinner was a full-serving of man, and was 
not shrimp-souled by a long shot; and so 
when Slugs intimated, among other things, 


| that Tiger Mike, the Tinner’s fighting 


terrier, had jumped the pit fence to get 
away from McDonald’s Grip, the Tinner 


tossed caution over the ropes and waded in. 


For eight long rounds the Slugger had 


| been digesting every dish that was on the 


Tinner’s menu, and the overeating had not 
sweetened his disposition much. He had 
that lethal left hook to the liver all cooked 
and loaded, ready to go off, when the young 
Mr. Binns came wading in. Close in, Slugs 
pulled the trigger, and when that ball of 
knuckles hit, Mr. Binns thought that his 
opponent weighed not two hundredweight, 
but two tons. That sock jarred through 
the tough muscle shield of the Tinner’s 
hypochondrium to the liver. And when 
Binns’ 
face showed that. He doubled, pulled his 


| abdomen back out of range, laid an elbow 


on it for protection. 

“Straighten him!’’ came from K O Pat 
O’Boyle in the Baiter’s corner. 

And the Baiter straightened his suffering 
opponent up with an uppercut that rattled 
his skeleton to the heels. 

“Gore him again!”’ yelled K O Pat. And 
the house caught up this new contribution 
to ring parlance in a split second. 

For the Slugger had a trick of not only 
hooking to the liver with the kick of a 
blunderbuss, but of sharply following the 
impact with a hard shove. Like a bull’s 


EVENING POST 


SPORTSMAN 


(Continued from Page 17) 


horn, that murderous left hooked into the 
Tinner’s side again, just below the rib car- 
tilages, and followed through with a lifting 
shove that tossed the big boy as a bull 
would toss a dog. 

“Gore him!” shrieked the house, asit hit. 

But there was no need to gore again. The 
big boy lay where he had dropped. En- 
tirely conscious, that was the pitiful part 
of it—entirely clear as to what was happen- 
ing to his bright career as the referee’s arm 
rose and fell. But he was hurt so badly-— 
his nerves and brain were so completely 
occupied with the vital business of register- 
ing pain—that he could not find a wire 
vacant on which to send a message to his 
legs that they must stand his suffering body 
up again. 

No doubt about it, there was something 
distinctly taurine about Slugs O’Boyle. 
The rolling eye, the tossing head, the hulk- 
ing shoulders, the savage recklessness of 
pain or punishment, the pitilessness of his 
attack. 

Doc Holden saw it. Doe Holden, who 
had been induced a second time to make the 
journey to New York to judge the setters, 
pointers, spaniels, Chesapeake Bay dogs 
and retrievers. Doc had a ringside seat. 
Doc liked to hear’em grunt. Andso Becky 
de Havin saw to it that he got a seat where 
he could catch ’em in his lap as they came 
flying through the ropes. Not directly did 
De Havin get these front-row ducats for 
old Doc. Doc was the world’s best mouse 
smeller, and he would at once have refused 
any favor, however small, from anyone who 
owned a dog he might be called upon to 
judge. But Becky de Havin knew Jack 
Footer, he who writes the unapproachable 
bird-dog stories, and Jack Footer, of course, 
knew Doc, the dean of bird-dog men. So 
the stratagem was easy. 

Doc nicely placed, the next move was to 
implant in his head a bull complex, and 
with this in view, Becky de Havin and his 
good friend and prospective brother-in-law, 
K O Pat O’Boyle, evolved the new con- 
tribution to the fight fan’s vocabulary, 
“Gore him!’’ which was accepted with 
such alacrity. 

But the finest stroke of strategy came 
about through the fact that Becky de Havin 
numbered among his many worthwhile 
friends, Ted Ripper, the best sports car- 
toonist of his day, if not of any day. Him 
young Becky persuaded, as a_ personal 
favor, to draw a cartoon covering the go 
between the Slugger and the Tinner, which 
he did, with the result that on the morning 
following the fight, which was the morning 
of the day of final judging of the A. K. A. 
classic, old Doc Holden, over his grapefruit, 
buckwheat cakes, maple sirup and sau- 
sages, oatmeal, bacon and eggs and but- 
tered toast, bran muffins, coffee, cantaloupe 
for dessert, and whatever other small knick- 
knacks it took to start the Doc’s day with 
a smile, saw glowering at him off the sport- 
ing page of the New York Present Era the 
tough mug of the winner of the previous 
night’s entertainment, set forth in all the 
vitalness that Ted Ripper could put into 
black and white. What’s more, Ted had 
the Slugger clad in skin-tight breeches to 
the knee, with huge hammer fists held out 
square-elbowed, gloveless, after the manner 
of the old bare-knuckled days. And below 
this sketch was one of Ted’s terse and pic- 
turesque paragraphs: 

SLuGs O’BoyLg, THE BAITER, WHO LAST NIGHT 
LAID TINNER BINNS, ANOTHER HEAVYWEIGHT 
ASPIRANT, ON THE SHELF 

This makes about the twentieth notch on the 
post in Mr. O’Boyle’s corner of the ring. This 
pleasant-faced gentleman, who has never been 
able to make the top spot himself, has the unique 
record of having stopped more promising young 
men who tried to crowd him off that road than 
any scrapper that ever taped a knuckle. Can 
you doubt it, looking at the piece of meat the 
youngsters have to push over in order to get up 
there to the champ? One tough serving of 
marmalade, this O'’Boyle party, who, as you 
may find it difficult to believe, is brother to 
none other than the handsome and dapper K O 


August 14,1926 


Pat of the same name, the king of all the little 
fellows. 

In the present day of fighting decadence, 
when the dollar, and not the grim fighting 
heart, is the important consideration of the 
honorable old roped square, the Slugger is an 
anachronism—a throwback to the old days 
when it was not necessary to bait an opponent 
into giving the fans a show. In that day the 
Slugger’s extra monniker, the Baiter, would have 
been given him not because his tongue dripped 
vitriol. You could get a fight without much 
talking then. He would have been the Baiter 
then because between fights his avocation 
doubtless would have been the barbarous old 
sport of baiting bulls with dogs. If you don’t be- 
lieve it, take another slant at that mug up there. 


And with the assurance of his good friend, 
the head waiter at the Hendryx Hudson, 
that a copy of the Present Era, open at the 
sporting page, would be on old Doc’s 
breakfast table on the morning of the final 
day of the A. K. A. show, Mr. Becky de 
Havin called his campaign against the 
Somner-Olkin type of dog-show sports- 
manship complete, and rested from the 
ardors of his operations. 


It had narrowed down to four. The 
crowd packed round the judging ring and 
leaning against the railings of the dingy 
galleries of the old Madison Square Garden 
was tense with the drama of the last three 
eliminations. 

Good that the judges were old-timers. A 
job now faced them that would try their 
nerve and coolness and their calm judicial 
powers to the limit. The four dogs before 
them had come through three days of com- 
petition with the finest dogs America could 
produce. Each was about as near perfec- 
tion for his breed as mortal canine could 
approach. Was one of them any closer to 
the absolute ideal of his kind than were the 
three others? If so, by that infinitesimal 
shade, so difficult to measure, that dog 
would be adjudged the best of the two 
thousand splendid specimens that had been 
in competition for the last half week. 

The beautiful greyhound bitch Landsend 
Marigold, an old campaigner with a hun- 
dred blues and points enough for half a 
dozen championships, was on the judges’ 
stand. Her handler played his trump card 
with her now. One hand under her lean 
tucked-up belly, one grasping her long fine 
muzzle, he lifted her up, clear of the stand, 
so that her legs hung plumb and straight. 
Then, very gently, he lowered her to her 
paws and very carefully took his hands 
away from her. And there she posed, ex- 
actly as he placed her, muzzle a little lifted, 
tail swung motionless under her in its per- 
fect curve. She did not move a muscle, 
twitch an ear, blink an eye. She scarcely 
seemed to breathe, a thing compounded 
out of merging lines of beauty almost too 
perfect to be real. A statue molded out of 
flesh into proportions of such utter economy 
and efficiency as only centuries—nay, tens 
of centuries—of selection that took the 
record of her forbears back to ancient 
Egypt could have effected. 

How could a judge give such an animal 
the gate? Yet only one out of that four 
could win; and so presently she walked 
majestically to defeat, leaving the judging 
ring to three. 

One was a little Scotty, packed so full of 
terrier pepper, humor and approval of the 
world that life and vim sparked from the 
harsh coat of him as though he were a high- 
eared, wire-coated Leyden jar on four short 
sturdy legs. The magnificent Russian 
wolfhound, Astronov Krilatka, was one of 
little Hoot’s competitors, and the White 
Monarch of Glenmere was the other. 

What a contrast in character and ap- 
pearance, in use, and in the mental impres- 
sion each left on the observer! No animal 
has so lent himself to the forming hands of 
man. Sometimes this seems his greatest 
proof of friendliness. Whatever use man 
has for dogs, for that use dogs have let 
themselves be modified into the form and 
character best suited for the service. 

(Continued on Page 42) 





Copyright 1926, by The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co., Inc. 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


No matter where you drive, there is a Goodyear Service Station near you 


AFTER THE SALE 


Itisthe customary thing in business toshow 
the buyer careful attention before the sale. 
It is the Goodyear desire to show him even 
more careful attention afterwards. 

In other words, Goodyear policy has a 
double purpose: 

First—to build the greatest possible value into the 
product; and second, to provide means enabling 
the user to get all this value out. 


To accomplish the first part of this policy, 
Goodyear has withheld no effort that could 
improve the goodness of Goodyear Tires. 


Today, as an example, by reason of the 


extra-elastic cord fabric SUPERTWIST, Good- 
year SUPERTWIST Balloons are admittedly 
the finest tires it is possible to buy. 


To accomplish the second part, Goodyear 
has built a world-wide dealer organization 
schooled in tire knowledge and tire care. 
It has repeatedly urged the public, as it 
now urges you, to wse this organization as a 
means of keeping tire costs down. 

You can identify the Goodyear Dealer 
by the Goodyear Service Station sign. 
Look for it—it is insurance of “‘after-the- 
sale” economy and satisfaction. 


THE GOODYEAR TIRE & RUBBER COMPANY, INC., AKRON, OHIO 


pledged to give you helpful Goodyear Service 


More people ride on Goodyear Tires 
than on any other kind 


| 
| 
: 


nu 
i}! 
mu 
Mn 
IIIT 
Mut 


| 
| 
| 
Ki 
(l! 











“‘_-and I don’t have to apolo- 


gize for being comfortable!” 








N the daintiest footwear, 

as well as on the sturdi- 

est, Seiberling Rubber Heels 
make their contribution of 
comfort and long wear at no 
cost to good looks. They take 
their place on fine shoes as 
All-T read 


take theirs on fine cars. 


Seiberling Tires 


THE SEIBERLING RUBBER CO. 
AK RON , on ' Oo 


SEIBERLING 
RUBBER HEELS 


For gentlemen too, of course. 





| the business in hand. 





& GY 


THE SATURDAY 


(Continued frem Page 40) 

Scotty to go to earth. Very epitome, 
Scotty, of the terrier tribe. Terrier, from 
the Latin, terra. Sturdy short legs to force 
his hard little body into warrens where 
there may be no room for battle maneu- 
verings. There he must meet his enemy, 
often, fang to fang, down in the black 
under-earth galleries. And so he is pro- 
vided with the weapons of a dog three 
times his size, his strong bewhiskered muz- 
zle, heavy and long, a very armory of lethal 
tools. Game little Die-hard, blessed little 
clown, quaint pertness mixing with a cer- 
tain indefinable solid dignity in everything 
he does. A blues chaser and a dog, from the 


| first bristle of his beard to the last hair of 


his high-swung jaunty tail. 

And against him that day, borzoi. Bor- 
zoi, made to chase man’s ancient enemy, the 
wolf. Built to run down the deadliest of the 


| canine breed, the wiliest and the cruelest, 


and, having run him down, to knock him 
down, and to keep knocking him down till 
the hunter’s ponies can come plowing up 
through the snow. Made for sheer swift- 
ness, narrow to the wind, chest of tremen- 
dous depth but flat-ribbed, even the section 
of his leg bones running fore and aft. In 
the proportions for sheer swiftness lie the 
proportions for sheer beauty always. A 
very symphony of curves, the borzoi, clad 
in a silky Russian winter robe that hides 
the almost painful gauntness that goes with 
greyhound beauty. A lofty dignity and 
aristocracy is his, caught without a doubt, 
for dogs do catch the human atmosphere 
in which they live, from the fact that for 
centuries none but the nobility of old Rus- 
sia dared to own him. 

Those two, so opposite, in competition, 
and against them one as different from each 
of them as they were from each other. 
Against them good old good-for-nothing 
Sour Mug. 

Tough going for old Sour Mug that day; 
for, instead of helping him on this occasion, 
as she had done a year before, the dazzling 
girl who held his leash was this day handi- 
capping him. The subtle medicine of Mrs. 
Somner-Olkin’s paragraph in Dog Monthly 
was at work upon the judges. They were on 
trial. Allright, then; they would show the 
Gardenful of wise ones watching them that 
no mere lovely piece of femininity, even let 
her have the loveliest, supplest slenderness 
that had ever graced the stage, even let 
that loveliness be alluringly half revealed 
by the present scanty mode—they would 
show the watchful wise ones that nothing 
could influence their critical faculties re- 
garding dog flesh. And so resolving, bias, 
unsuspected by them, entered. 

So at least with two of them. But not 
with three. Not with Doe Holden. Doc 
Holden did not give three whoops in To- 
phet what the gallery thought of him. Doc 
was gray where he wasn’t bald, and stout 
where he wasn’t fat; and if the gallery 
wanted to think of him as some tight- 
hosed, velvet-jerkined, feather-bonneted 
Romeo, swayed by mere feminine allure- 
ments when he was busy judging dogs, they 
were free to think what they ram-whacked 
pleased. The Scotty there, bless his sun- 
shiny terrier heart—-the Scotty— that was 
And he, tough luck, 
had just a trifle too much spring of ribs. 

Full many a Scotty’s life has ended 
tragically deep in some vermin’s earth, be- 
cause his strong short legs in eagerness to 
get to game had wedged the angles of some 
sharp constriction of a rocky burrow be- 
tween his ribs so tightly that he could not 


| extricate himself. Many a man has dug 


and dug, hearing that brave bark far under- 
ground grow fainter and fainter until at last 
came silence. Had his rib spring only been 
a little flatter, his rib skeleton a little bit 
less barreled 

Doc Holden stooped and took the rough- 
haired, thick little chest between his hands 
again. Then he arose and talked a word or 
two to his confreres—and little Hoot went 
jauntily pattering through the gate, ears 
up, tail up, eyes full of fire, cocky as though 
he had just now, single-handed, whipped an 
Irish wolf dog. Defeated? Well, what of it? 


EVENING POST 


Next year you big mutts better watch my 
smoke! 

Now only two. Muscovite prince and 
British commoner. Ultimate fineness and 
ultimate brute force. Sheer breath-taking 
beauty arranged against the last word in 
squat forbiddingness. 

Now, bulldog, show! Now show, old 
Sour Mug, if ever you showed, for you are 
up against it! Two of the judges have read 
Dog Monthly, and all unconsciously, on 
account of a certain paragraph in it, they 
hold a need for vindication. The third 
judge holds no such need, but, in spite of 
that, in him lies a bulldog’s highest barrier 
to the big award. 

Doe Holden did not give a cuss what 
anybody thought about his susceptibilities 
to sex appeal. Sex was great stuff. Doc 
Holden was distinctly for it. But Doc 
agreed with the lad who summed up the 
appeal of sex banalities as now foisted upon 
a much-bored world, with the knockout 
observation that the place for sex was in 
the home. For Dog Monthly and all its 
paragraphs, Doc did not give a whoop. 
But Doc was swayed by a much more 
powerful bias against the bulldog than 
were the other judges—a bias more power- 
ful because it was built on honest convic- 
tions. 

Doe Holden was a bird-dog man. Doc 
liked a sporting dog, a working dog, the 
breeds that had a job, for him. Quail 
finders, waterfowl] retrievers, coyote cours- 
ers, cougar destroyers, man_ trailers; 
pointer and setter, Chesapeake Bay dog 
and Irish water spaniel, borzoi and Irish 
wolf dog, Airedale and otter hound, German 
police and bloodhound. Out upon pets and 
handsome decorations! Chowchows, schip- 
perkes, Bostons, Italian greyhounds, poo- 
dies, Poms and bulldogs—mere social 
debtors, all! If you wanted the benefit of 
any bias from Doc Holden, you had better 
be a sporting dog. And mighty well did 
Becky de Havin know it, laying his plans 
accordingly. And it seemed almost as 
though his bulldog knew it too, for he 
showed as bulldog never showed before. 

His lovely handler walked him down the 
sawdust, and as he rolled along, the surging 
power in him fairly bulged his snow-white 
coat. Terrific head uptilted toward this 
charming pal of his, delicate rose ears 
cocked on the corners of that great square 
skull, huge front paws flipping smartly, 
thick-muscled thighs kicking the light back 
end of him sidewise back and forth at every 
step, he swaggered down the judging ring 
like some swashbuckling, mighty-muscled 
canine Porthos, bristling with belligerence 
like a battleship with guns. 

“I’m a tough muffin,” said every bully 
lurch of him, ‘‘and every time I sneeze I 
blow a tree down! Where’s all the trouble? 
Bring it on! Let’s see it!” 

Well may you show, you wrinkle-mugged 
old troglodyte! For against you stands an- 
other fighting heart, but this one panoplied 
in stateliness, magnificence and beauty. 
Difficult to believe that a thing as exquisite 
as that long hound was a wolf hunter, un- 
less you visioned his weapons of the chase 
as not in his slender elegant muzzle but as 
in his legs and lungs and heart. A chevalier 
whom you would vision fencing gracefully 
and coolly with long rapier fangs, he used 
instead a mighty bludgeon. The name of it 
was speed. And with that murderous war 
hammer, speed, he clubbed his victim 
down, knocked his wolf sprawling into the 
snow and sprang aside. Pursued again, 
caught and clubbed down again, with his 
high, driving, wind-swift shoulder. He had 
the heart to catch his wolf, the heart for 
contact with him to spill him head over 
heels; the heart, indeed, without a doubt, 
to close with him to the death, were he not 
trained from puppyhood that he must not 
sacrifice his priceless life in such encounter, 
but that to man belonged the kill. 

Against that picturesque aristocrat of 
the hunt—against that bold-hearted sport- 
ing gentleman par excellence, the White 
Monarch, the sweet old good-for-nothing 
house pet, now made his last gallant stand. 
The two of them were on the little raised 


August 14,1926 


judging platform now, the judges slowly 
circling them, frowning, hand to cheek, head 
to a side. Occasionally one would reach 
out a hand to test the firmness of the thews 
that lived under the coats of those two 
totally different competitors, occasionally 
stopping in their circlings round the pair to 
run judicial fingers down into the marvel- 
ous winter garment of the Muscovite, or to 
get the feel of bursting muscular power that 
pulses underneath the living velvet of a 
healthy bulldog’s coat. 

Man, how he showed, that bulldog! The 
spread of him! The heft of him! The trucu- 
lence of him! The utter immovable, un- 
upsetableness of him! How he showed 
those very attributes that have made him 
famous over all the world! 

And how that lovely girl did handle him! 
No silly tossings of a little ball to get his 
ears up. No tempting with small bits of 
liverwurst to put life in his eyes. No 
hinting at the possibility of cats around 
the corner. She merely let him stand. She 
did not even look at him. And, bored to 
extinction by four days of gaping people 
and the senseless, endless yapping of two 
thousand crazy dogs, sick of the whole colos- 
sal foolishness of dog showing as he saw it, 
a disgust so heavenly wrinkled his honest 
mug and laid his ears back that the true 
sourness of expression arrived —that very 
perfection of bulldog type which is all too 
seldom seen today; that glum surliness 
which adds the ultimate charm to the sweet- 
ness of his disposition. 

Worthless old good-for-naught house pet 
perhaps—but take a good look, you three, 
scratching your heads and circling, at that 
wide-braced front, at the upsweep of that 
jaw. House pet or not, what that lad starts, 
that thing, dog judges and audience, friends, 
enemies of old Sour Mug, if any —that thing 
he will, by all that’s fat and brown, see 
right through to the torture-blinded, blood- 
drained finish. 

And now the judges have their heads to- 
gether. Now they are sorting out the rib- 
bons. There is tension in the audience of 
doggy folks that throng the Garden, like 
the tension when the score is nothing all 
and the star drop kicker is falling back, and 
the crowd sees the timer start to lift his 
whistle toward his lips. For old Doc Hol- 
den is lifting his stub pencil to his mouth 
to moisten it. He moistens it and poises it 
above his scoring pad. And does he write? 
We ask you. We ask you, does a man of old 
Doe Holden’s years and rotund propor- 
tions, leaping blithely through the air, 
pause in mid-flight to jot down winners on 
a scoring pad? 

With an agility unsuspected by his clos- 
est intimates, Doc leaped aside to let a 
snow-white thunderbolt go by him. For 
all in an instant that static little chunk 
of crusty truculence turned dynamic, and 
with a voice like a dropped half pint of 
nitroglycerin went away from there. With 
trailing leash, he left his lovely handler’s 
side and headed for the ring fence, and the 
close-jammed crowd against it somehow 
miraculously made a lane for him. He took 
the ring rail in one quick, thick-muscled 
leap, shot roaring through the crowd and 
disappeared. 

A tale is told of one who was inspired to 
play a good joke on the judges and the 
fancy through knowing an acquaintance 
who had raised a wolf whelp to maturity. 
The animal had grown into a magnificent 
creature and had retained an unexpected 
tractability. The jokester borrowed him 
from the friend and entered him as a Lap- 
land reindeer dog in a big show, and 
brought him through to winners in the 
variety classes. So thoroughly had the 
judges and the fancy been hoodwinked that 
the reindeer dog was entered for the grand 
special, best-of-the-show, and would in all 
likelihood have won it had not the handler 
made the error of leading him to the judg- 
ing ring for this final event past the borzoi 
stalls. That big lobo could fool the judges 
and the fancy, maybe, that he was a Lap- 
land reindeer dog; but with the Russian 
wolfhounds—not so, as has been elsewhere 

(Continued on Page 45 





SATURDAY EVENING POST 


now found in way to 

se families ride. Today, 

3 6d as a great and revolu- 
bution to safer Motoring. The protection it 
‘and to your family js priceless—yet the cars 
}it cost no more!than those which do not. 


gy yr yg 


On THE/$URFACE, all automobile bodies appear to be steel. 
For this reggon, fhany motorists mistakenly believe they have an 
All-Steel Body+ when what they actually have is a body with 
a framework of Wood, covered by a sheathing of metal. 


The Budd All-Stee! Body is exactly what the name expresses 
—steel thtough end through. Steel cannot splinter in collision. 
The Budd Body has no joints to work loose and warp out of 
shape, causing squeaks and rattles. It is a single, welded 
framework Of st@el—one piece. 


No old-stylé Bulky cornerposts hide approaching cars. In the 
Budd Body, 8® cornerposts are narrow, strong columns of 
steel, which Remit full, free vision of the road 


The Budd Body is the ideal combination of strength and 
lightness. At @pupremely durable, and therefore slow to de 


preciate. ¥ is beautiful—with a grace of line and sym 
metry matlé Sesible by pliable steel. 


Budd originated the All-Steel Body—the greatest possible 
protection i G@ision against personal injury. For your peace 
of mind in the gefety of it . . . for your pride and satisfaction 
in the beauty off ... see that your next car is equipped with the 
"Mi Budd All-Steel, Full-Vision Body! 
A EDWARD @ BUDD MANUFACTURING COMPANY 
i Philadelphia - Detroit 





Put the protection of all-steel between you 
and the risks of the road 


FULL VISION 


MOTOR CAR BODIES 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





F ¢ * * e 
HE first cost of Frigidaire Electric 
Refrigeration is surprisingly low— 

its operating cost is usually less than the 

cost of ice—and, because it is constantly 


dependable, it saves food that would 
otherwise be wasted through spoilage. 


With Frigidaire in your home you will 
be independent of outside ice supply. 
All your foods will be kept colder, 
better and longer. You will have an 
abundance of ice frozen from your 
own pure drinking water—and many 


NE a ee ™ 
. gE isco a. 


This modern ice man” 
calls once ~with Frigidaire - 
and the ice stays always 


Economical Refrigeration 


new frozen desserts made for you by 
Frigidaire. 


You will be sure of all these advan- 
tages if you have a genuine Frigidaire. 
The name and resources of General 
Motors—the guaranty of Delco-Light 
Company—the endorsement of more 
than 200,000 Frigidaire users—these are 
your assurances of dependability, economy, 
durability, value. 


Visit the nearest Frigidaire display 
room today. See the beautiful new 


metal cabinet Frigidaires which are 
finished in white Duco and lined with 
seamless porcelain enamel — or the 
Frigidaire mechanical unit which can 
be installed in your present ice-box. 
Find out how little Frigidaire costs and 
how easily you can buy it on the 
General Motors deferred payment plan. 
Or, if you prefer, mail the coupon below 
for the Frigidaire Catalog. 
DELCO-LIGHT COMPANY 
Subsidiary of General Motors Corporation 


Dept. B-194, DAYTON, OHIO 
The World’s Largest Builder of Electric Refrigerators 


Be sure it is a Frigidaire—Product of General Motors 


rik 


ELECTRIC@ 


REFRIGERATIO 





CT 


VULeeNEEE 


3 Name 


Address 





DELCO-LIGHT COMPANY, Dept. B-194, Dayton, Ohio. 


Please send me a copy of the Frigidaire Catalog. 








August 14,1926 


a 


ee 






Se 


oF ey g Cai mee 










> 








(Continued from Page 42 

said, Bolivia! Perhaps not two dogs of the 
borzois benched had ever seen a wolf; but 
instinct and racial memory were not to be 
cajoled, and that aisle of tethered long 
hounds nearly tore the stalls up by the 
roots showing the world the hoax that had 
been played. 

Now Sour Mug Alley at a dog show is 
the aisle along which the bulldogs are 
benched. And Sour Mug Alley, instead 
of being the rough-and-ready brawling 
neighborhood that its name would imply, 
is about the best behaved and most peace- 
ful spot that could be found in a dog-show 
hall. 

Along it sits old Short-Nose on his usual 
good behavior, bored stiff by endless ‘‘Ohs!”’ 
and ‘“‘Mys!”’ of timid visitors, and by the 
constant vocalizing of the windy breeds. 
At intervals, from causes not to be ex- 
plained, an epidemic of barking may break 
out in which even the stately bloodhound’s 
deep clangor may be heard. Some tele- 
pathic disturbance it must be, for the bed- 
lam is universal and threatens to bring 
down the roof beams. 

But through it all Sir Wrinklemush will 
sit silent, nursing his apparent grouch, or 
snoring, like as not, his disregard of all such 
addle-pated racket. 

But now! May heaven defend us—now! 
There were a hundred and fifteen bulldogs 
benched that evening at the Garden, and 
when Slugs O’Boyle, whose little two-tone 
whistle had summoned the Monarch from 
the judging ring, came striding down 
through Sour Mug Alley, with the Monarch 
leaping up on him with all the playfulness 
of some baby hippogriff, the other hundred 
and fourteen bullies rose up wriggling and 
declared themselves. As Slugs plowed down 
the alley, he gave them all a bat across the 
rump that knocked them up against the 
side wall of their stalls, and he cursed them 
severally and collectively in language that 
scorched stiff the yellow-satin linings of the 
Pekingese boudoirs five aisles away. And 
Sour Mug Alley ate it up. Sour Mug Alley 
to a dog twisted its well-slapped back end 
ecstatically about to get another whack 
from that rough hand, and Sour Mug Alley 
to a dog laid back its head and opened its 
huge trap and told the cockeyed world that 
here was a guy at last that knew his bull- 
dogs. 

Noise? Listen, brother! Up until then 
no dog show auditorium never heard no 
noise! 

Up in the first gallery of the Garden, 
where they sat, looking down into the judg- 
ing ring, young Becky de Havin, III, 
thoroughbred, and his brother-in-law-to-be, 
young K O Pat, who deserved the greater 
credit because he was a thoroughbred with- 
out the advantages of thorough breeding, 
exchanged wise ‘glances and bestowed a 
pair of happy ones on a Tipperary-haired 
Polynesian mermaiden of delicious slimness 
who approached them, her left arm now 
conspicuously bare of the show-number tag 
that it had lately worn. 


THE SATURDAY 


These three then, looking down again 
upon the judging ring, saw with great satis- 
faction the stub of pencil go back into Doc 
Holden’s pocket, and the score pad, all un- 
marked, go after it. 

For suddenly, as at the explosion of a 
well-placed mine, the bull complex which 
by this and that device had been so care- 
fully engineered by Becky de Havin and 
his friends for the investment of Doc Hol- 
den’s mental citadel, breached that hard 
skull and he surrendered. Doc knew, 
as every dog man knows, that Lapland 
reindeer-dog story. And if the borzois 
raised all that rumpus when a wolf went 
past their stalls, what beast, in heaven’s 
name, was traveling down old silent Sour 
Mug Alley now? 

Doc will tell you to this day, and you 
may take it or leave it, accordingly as you 
are intimate with Doc, that when the 
crowd before the ring gate opened again, 
he honestly expected to see a bull come 
snorting through. And it is not likely that 
the crowd would have parted any more 
quickly for a bull; for what came snorting 
through was the White Monarch of Glen- 
mere, hauling Slugs O’Boyle back of him on 
a leash stretched as rigid as a thin bar of 
steel. 

“In here,” the bulldog seemed to say. 
“*Here’s where it is. Come on in here and 
let’s show these stuffed shirts something, 
you and me!” : 

And he dragged into the select precincts 
of a ring for thousand-dollar dogs with 
million-dollar owners the hardest egg that 
ever got that way through years of boiling 
in a far different sporting ring, and one 
from which the genteel ring might learn 
much sportsmanship. 

Under the visor of a down-yanked cap, 
small black eyes glittered from the two 
sides of a nose that looked as though it had, 
in some past year, been sideswiped by a box 
car. And Nature had built up calluses to 
protect the sinuses of the brows until they 
beetled like a penthouse roof. On either 
side of the Slugger’s onion, ears stood out 
shell-like ears if you will but keep in mind 
the abalone. His head, without the usual 
formality of a neck, sat on a pair of bulging 
shoulders, and over a chest of the general 
proportions of a quarter of beer, a lime- 
stone jaw projected; and, strange to note, 
upon the biceps of a liver-wrecking left 
rested the Monarch’s show-number tag, 
which had a minute previous been attached 
to an arm as famous for its loveliness as the 
Slugger’s was for blocking paths to pugilis- 
tic glory. 

In praise of Slugs O’Boyle! No minstrel 
Irishman ever sang as beautiful a romance 
to plain honest strength. Old Sour Mug 
opened up his bear trap and let the music 
flow. 

**Look, stiffs!”’ in a good roaring contra- 
bass. ‘‘Look, you pooch nurses and flea- 
powder sprinklers! Here’s a dog man! And 
to play his game, you gotta be a dog, not 
some silk-cushion cootie. Where do you 
keep your bulls, you bonbon nibblers? Trot 


EVENING POST 


if you really want to do 
some worth-your-while dog judging, and 
me and Slugs’ll show you how to haul him 
down! And I might also remark, in pass- 
ing, a couple of gr-r-r-r-rs and six or seven 


woofs!’ 


one in, judges, 


“‘Aw, button your lip, you old baboon!” 
said Slugs O’Boyle amiably, and reached 
down and slammed the Monarch one across 
the jaw that would have rolled a collie over 
twice, and brought him in bare-fanged at 
the striker’s throat. But that sweet cuff 
never budged that little marble monument. 
He wagged the whole back end of him in 
appreciation. 

“Ain't we got fun?” he growled, and 
chewed the Slugger’s ankle viciously in re- 
taliation. 

Nothing to it, friends of old Sour Mug, 
and enemies—if any. 

Beauty and the beast? That’s out! In- 
stead of contrast, consonance. That pair 
belonged together; buddies, like rack and 
ruin. And asour truculence radiated from 
that brace of cutthroats that you could 
fairly taste. Two of the judges, watching 
them, breathed great relief. All question 
of their susceptibility toward dazzling dog 
handlers was removed, and they swung 
away with alacrity from Mrs. Somner-Olkin 
and her dogs and wiles and voted the bull- 
pup ticket straight. 

And old Doc Holden, sportsman and 
lover of sporting dogs, saw now in front of 
him the Baiter, the true old-time tough bull 
baiter and his tough, gallant dog. The one 
too brutish to be called sportsman in this 
year of grace, but the other one the very 
essence of sportsmen any year. One who 
has not for centuries pulled down a bull, 
but one who'd tackle it tomorrow. One 
whose heritage of courage is so magnificent 


that the centuries have not diluted it a | 
drop. Sportsman? To face appalling odds 


unwhimpering, to fight them gamely, with 


no falterings whatever, to the end. Today 


he'll do it—Sour Mug. 
The White Monarch of Glenmere stood, 
a dog alone, in the long judging ring, the 


Garden shaking with applause about him, 


over him, 


There is one thing in sport more admira- | 


ble than a good loser. 


That’s a good win- | 
ner; a winner that holds fast to modesty 


with the world’s plaudits ringing; a winner | 


that holds fast to balance, too, eschewing 
that puerile display called temperament, 
whose right name is ego. 

“Did you ever hear such a nutty bunch 
of dogs and people?”’ asked the Monarch of 
Glenmere and of all dogdom. ‘‘ Don’t won- 
der much. They’ve all been living on show 
grub, dog cakes, half a week. Four days 


of dog show would make most anybody | 


nutty.” 


There came the irresistible wheedling 


waggle of his whole back end. 

“You know me, Slugs. I’m the guy 
down at the club that takes the road work 
with you in the mornings. Kennel name 
of Jerry—Jerry A. Roundsteak, Esq. Let’s 
you and me go home and eat!” 


GETTING ON IN THE WORLD 


‘*But you asked me how I liked it.”” He 
straightened in his chair. “‘ From my slant 
there’s nothing better. First of all, there’s 
no labor trouble to hold up deliveries. 
There’s competition, of course, on quality 
and price, but it’s not so keen as the cutting 
I used to run against in other lines, for 
prices on most of the issues are fixed and 
maintained by the underwriting houses. 
Another reason I’m for it is you take a 
large part of your clientele with you wher- 
ever you go, provided you’ve sold them 
good stuff. That isn’t true in many other 
lines, where people buy largely according to 
price or trade-mark. 

‘‘ Perhaps another reason I’m sold on the 
game is that I got into it at about the right 
age, thirty. Twenty-eight to thirty-five is 
the ideal age to make the break. A man 
starting at thirty has a big edge on a boy in 





(Continued from Page 39 


the early twenties. He’s picked up a busi- 
ness background that enables him to talk 
intelligently not only about what he’s sell- 
ing but about business as well. The average 
youngster who goes into bond selling in his 
early twenties—what does he know that 
would interest a banker or business man 
he’s trying to sell bonds to? When he’s 
finished chattering what he’s memorized 
from a bond circular he’s through; so is the 
prospect. 

“The old psychology’s the same there as 
it is in trying to sell your friends before 
you know what you're selling. It never 
flatters a man with money to have a boy tell 
him how to invest it. Understand, I’m not 
telling a boy he shouldn’t try his luck if he 
wants to; I’m only telling him what he'll 
be up against until he has grown several 
years wiser. Enter at any age you want, 


but give me around the thirty mark. It’s 
tough enough for a year or two at any age. 
I had to cut my cloth to a nominal drawing 
account for a year and a half before I saw 
daylight. 

**But you can throw that to the poultry. 
What fills my sails is this: Your market’s 
wherever you find money; a limousine, a 
street car, a man or a woman, at home or at 
the office, Broadway or Main Street, any- 
body, anywhere, any time; if there’s 
money there, there’s your market. Outside 


of the stick-up game where can you match 


that?” 


I’m quite sure I can’t match it, yet as 


Hollar’s figure faded, that transparency 
gave a final bob and I couldn't help but 
wonder what they’d be doing a year from 
today, the one and the fifty-nine. 
KENNETH COOLBAUGH. 












Is your shave a 
major operation? 


The tonsil, appendix and beard 
may have served some useful! pur- 
pose once, and Nature hasn’t yet 
learned to omit them as standard 
equipment. 

Until Mennen chemists got on 
the job, removing any of them was 
a major operation. And when the 
beard was lopped off, no anesthe- 
sia eased the agony. 

Before the shave there was first a reg- 
ular hospital routine of finger-massage, 
heating, etc. Then a post-operative 
schedule of hot towels, styptic pencils 
and resuscitation. 

All that is prehistoric stuff to Mennen 
Shaving Cream users. They dally not 
with rubbing in lather. They scorn the 
use of steaming cloths. Hot or cold, 
hard or soft, water is all the same 

First an economy squeeze from the 
Mennen tube. hen a magic swell of 
super-moist lather. Dermutation softens 
every hair. A few bold razor strokes like 
a passing breeze, a rinse, and the shave 
is over in record time. 

I guarantee you'll like Mennen Skin 
Balm, the new after-shaving lotion. 
You'll like the man-style bite of it, the 
pleasant odor, the cooling, refreshing 
sensation that floods the face. It not 
only feels great, but has definite anti 
septic value as well. Comes in tubes 
and costs half a buck 

Only one thing can add more luxury— 
Mennen Talcum for Men—fragrant but 
not perfumed. Tinted to match your 
skin. Covers up the shine. Protects 
from scraggly collar and doesn’t show 
on the face. Two-bit tins 


. 
oe 
(Meunen Selesman 


MENA 


SHAVING CREAM 











Ice Cream Firm 
all the way home! 


OW, Dad can get a quart of the 

family’s favorite ice cream on his 
way home without having it melt 
and leak or drip all over his clothing. 
That's the beauty of ice cream packed 
Sealright Liquid-Tight 
Paper Containers, Being practically 
air-tight, Sealrights keep the cold air 
in and the warm out. Naturally, ice 
cream will keep in fine, firm, edible 
condition longer in a Sealright than 


in genuine 


in any other paper package. 


Sealright Containers are absolutely 
leak-proof and crush-proof. They are 
a distinct improvement over every 
other paper container for ice cream. 
They assure you full measure, always. 
The ice cream serves easily, in dainty 


round slices. (See illustration below.) 


Most progressive merchants use 
Sealrights because there is no other 
paper container “‘ just as good.” For 
your protection, the name“Sealright”’ 
is stamped on the bottom of every 
genuine Sealright Container. If your 
dealer does not use Sealrights, send 
us his name and we will send him 
samples. 


SEALRIGHT CO., Inc. Fulton, N.Y. 
Dept. A-8 


Eat More Ice Cream! 


Hold container under 


cold water an bott 


Remove top, press Thencut in attrac- 


mevenlywith tive round slices to 


instant thum Suil 


SEALRIGHT 


Liquid~Tight 


Paper Containers ' 





| played up magnificently, 


| had clashed for a second or so; 
| added in repetition, ‘“‘I wish they’d come.” 


| drink,” 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


SHEIK’S CLOTHING 


‘‘What shall I look at?” 
“T don’t care.” 
“Want a cigarette? 
“he” 

Silence settled on them. 

“‘T guess I will have a cigarette after all,” 


9 


the beauty said, after a time. 


Reg held out his packet. She looked at 
it disdainfully and fished one out. One 
could see she wasn’t used to cigarettes in 
packets. She was one of those silken 
women right enough. 

“Which end do I light?” she inquired, 
patently to underline the meanness of his 
offering. 

“The end you haven’t got in your 
mouth,” Reg told her briefly. 

If she was going to degrade herself by 
smoking his cigarettes she needn’t get sar- 
castic about it. 

“‘Humph,” she returned in a tone which 
implied that he thought he was smart. 

Never, in so short a time, had a woman 
been so consistently and gratuitously dis- 
agreeable to Reg. It puzzled him, till he 
remembered that that was the way of the 
type dangerous to man. He had seen it 
so depicted on stage and screen, and here 
it was in real life. It must appeal to some, 
but it didn’t to him, and if it hadn’t been 
for the taunts of Mrs. Dana he would have 
left her flat and invaded the kitchen in 
search of Miss Shipman. As it was, he 
couldn’t appear to run away. 

“‘Are they going to keep us waiting all 
night?”’ was the next pleasantry of the 
silken woman. 

“Who?” 

“Miss Shipman and that fool, of course. 
Who did you think?” 

“Are you in a hurry?” 

“No, but I don’t like to be left.” 

“You haven’t been left very often, have 
you?” he asked, reckless in his confidence 
in his immunity from her charms. 

“Humph,” she said again. 
quite a sheik, aren’t you?” 

She said it as though, when she found a 
sheik in her catch, she threw him back in 
the brook. 

“No,” he answered truthfully, but with 
an air of badinage. “Just an upstanding 


“You're 


| young American.” 


“With that shirt?” she asked, and she 


| made a strange sound, a little like a pea- 


cock’s ery. 
It was the beginning of a demoniac laugh, 


| but she cut it short. 


“All right, have it your own way,” Reg 
said. 

She looked at him and narrowed her 
eyes. 

“Well, don’t try any sheik business on 


| me.” 


Reg felt himself so very safe that he 
leaning forward 
and thrusting out his chin. 
“T won't.” 
“Get away,” she said, after their eyes 
and she 


“TI can go out and get you something to 
he offered, “if you’re dying of 
thirst.” 

Just then a round little woman with 
dyed hair under a gold-lace hat, entered 
the street door, put back her head and 
yodeled, ‘‘Ship-e-e!”’ 

““What-e-e?”’ came from the kitchen. 

“Tt’s me-e.” 

Ruby Cook Shipman’s plump, youthful 


| face, under its boyish bob, exploded into 


the kitchen doorway, a bombshell of de- 
light. 
“Clarakin! Oh, I could hug you to 
death. When did you get back? Snifter 
and I have been making a cake. Bring it 
in, Snifter. Clara’s here. You know 
Snifter, don’t you?” : 
“The show closed in Boston. 
the rottenest luck?” 
“Oh, there’s no audience for a really 
lovely thing. Doesn’t it break your heart? 
‘ Where are you, Snifter?”’ 


Isn’t that 


(Continued from Page 9) 


Snifter had been preparing one of his 
comedy entrances. He'd thrust a large 
candle in the center of the cake and tied 
Miss Shipman’s apron about his middle. 
He came in on mincing tiptoes, balancing 
the cake on long fingers, his other hand on 
his hip. 

“Birthday! Birthday!” 

“Oh, it is not.” 

“Isn’t it honestly, Shippie?”’ 

“TI made him promise not to tell. 
getting too old to have birthdays.” 

“You!” 

“‘Shippie’s one year old,” Snifter’s voice 
dominated. “See the candle. Shippie’s 
one year old.” 

“T really don’t feel any age at all, but 
when you're thirty-three ——”’ 

“T know. Last year, when I had my 
thirty-second birthday — 

A perfect frenzy of aiueprtation 
seized the two ladies. They went off into 
two mutually unattended monologues con- 
cerning their hypothetical emotions on 
certain fictitious dates. 

“While those two Ponzis juggle figures, 
I’ll go haul in the hooch,” Snifter said to 
Reg and the silken woman. 

Shrill cries came from Miss Shipman and 
the lady who’d been stranded in something 
really lovely in Boston. 

“What did you say about us?” 

“What did he say?” 

“Oh, isn’t he awful?” 

“Why, I haven’t shaken hands with 
Weggie Peggie,”’” Ruby Cook Shipman 
noticed, flinging up both arms in a gesture 
which implored forgiveness, ‘‘and I’ve left 
him alone with an actress.””. Miss Shipman 
lowered her voice, “A lovely little artiste, 
isn’t she?” 

“Hello,”’ the silken woman said to Miss 
Shipman a little abruptly. 

Miss Shipman put one arm around her. 
“Has she got naughty eyes?”’ she warbled 
in a voice more elderly than anything else 
about her. The silken woman gave her a 
look like Exhibit A in a murder trial; a look 
rusty with old blood. 

Just then three new people arrived—all 
women—and Miss Shipman and her Clara 
threw themselves on them in a deafening 
hullabaloo of greetings, a hullabaloo which 
rose and fel! like the sound of the sea; a 
little inlet of the undying and cosmic hulla- 
baloo which must be the mob soul of 
womankind. 

Snifter came back, a cocktail shaker un- 
der his arm, and a tray of glasses in his 
hand. 

“‘Catch the shaker,” he cried to Reg. 

Reg made himself useful filling glasses 
and passing them. 

“My, what big ones!” 

“Do I have to drink this, Shippie?”’ 

“My! That’s yummy.” 

The sharp “No” with which the silken 
woman refused the glass he proffered her 
was rather a relief. 

“There’s baby d’ink in the pitcher,” 
Miss Shipman called to her, and the silken 
woman gave her an exact duplicate of her 
former look—Exhibit B. 

When it came his turn to drink Reg 
found the cocktails far from yummy. They 
were a scalding composition of lye and gall. 

Standing a little dazed with all the 
clamor, Reg felt eyes on him. They were 
the eyes of the silken woman, and her glance 
was almost as savage as those she had 
given Miss Shipman. 

“Want some of the punch?” he asked. 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t trust their gin.” 

He poured a glass. 

“Any good?” 

“Tt quenches your thirst,” 
holding out her glass to be refilled. 
she commanded, “Talk to me.” 

“What about?” 

“Anything. I don’t care.” 

He understood that it was not for the 
sake of his conversation that she had made 
the demand, but for some ulterior motive, 
probably sinister. 


I'm 


she answered, 
Then 


“Do you prefer poetry or prose?”” He 
sustained the bantering tone which he felt 
was safest with her. 

She gave the harsh peacock laugh again. 

“Poetry,” she said. 

Rather stumped, he began a nursery 
verse he hadn’t thought of for years. 


“Away far off in Lapland, mid its never 
melting snows, 
Where the roly boly 
beauty glows, 
There lived a little tinker, who in height 
stood three feet two, 
And from his endless shivering they called 
him Chi Chil Bloo.”’ 
““What’s that?” she queried. 
“‘A poem; not the poem for you though.” 
Then, quite abandonedly, he apostro- 
phized her in the words of Mr. Swinburne. 


Alice in her ruddy 


“Oh, Garment not golden but gilded! 
Oh, Garden where all men may dwell! 
Oh, Tower, not of ivory, builded 
By hands that reach Heaven from Hell.” 


“That’s wonderful,”’ she breathed. 
He went on with it. 


“Oh, mystical Rose of the Mire! 
Oh, House not of gold but of Gain, 
Mysterious Flower of Desire!” 


That was as far as his memory went; in 
fact, a little farther. Her glass was empty 
and he filled it again. He also took one for 
himself. Possibly it was the aftertaste of 
the cocktail, but it seemed a strange bever- 
age for anyone with a deep-rooted distrust 
of Miss Shipman’s gin. 

“Pink lemonade,” she remarked, appar- 
ently disgusted. Of course it wasn’t the 
drink for her. Champagne or absinth or 
vodka should have been her tipple. She 
finished the glass however. 

“‘You’re on the stage?’’ he said to her, 
though somehow it seemed hardly an ur- 
bane remark. 

vie ae 

“What in?” 

“Broadway Moon.” 

“T haven’t seen it yet.” 

“Tt’s rotten. Rotten.” 

‘Why do you stay in it then?”’ 

“T have to,’”’ she replied mysteriously. 
“Give me some more of that stuff.’”’ 

“Do you like it?” 

She leveled at him a look of supreme 
indignation. 

“You can’t stand around and drink 
nothing. It looks queer. Take some 
more.” 

She was daring him to drink as much as 
she. Reg filled his glass. 

Ruby Cook Shipman came up. 

“Having a good time?”’ she asked them 
“Take some cake. It turned out pretty 
well. Snifter mixed it. We neither of us 
knew how to know when it was done 
though.” 

“You seem to have found out,”’ 
marked politely. 

“‘T never could have; but Snifter called 
up the Plaza and asked for the head chef, 
and he told him. You stick in a fork and 
if it makes a neat hole it’s done. Isn’t that 
cute? I’m going to read some of my Sex 
Songs. They all seem to want me to.” 

Miss Shipman wandered away vaguely. 

The silken woman took one bite of the 
cake. 

“It tastes as though Snifter had mixed 
it,’ she declared, the homely culinary 
term sounding piquant on her lips; and she 
gulped some more of the punch to wash it 
away, adding, “This isn’t so bad, though, 
when you get used to it.” 

It was quite true. Reg had another 
glass too. 

“Everybody get cushions,’’ Ruby Cook 
Shipman was commanding. ‘ Make your- 
selves comfy. Ruby’s going to read to 
you.”’ She’d got a batik scarf and flung it 
about her shoulders. Everybody knew 
what to expect. She would wallow on a 

(Continued on Page 49 


Reg re- 








THE SATURDAY EVENING 











This gold button identifies 

the Bonded Realsilk Repre 

sentative when he calls at 
your home or office 












THE TWENTY-FIVE MILLION DOLLAR BUTTON 
) , Atinyinsignia which has gained recognition 
p for its wearers in 5,000,000 American Homes 


Jewelers probably will tell you that the emerald who represent the Real Silk Hosiery Mills and 
is the most valuable gem in the world... and wear this button did a hosiery and lingerie busi- 
undoubtedly it is. Yet here is an unobtrusive ness of over twenty million dollars. It seems 
little gold button worth far more than any single reasonable that by next year they will exceed 
emerald or any one collection of these rare stones. twenty-five million dollars—a vast business indeed 

It is the button which all Realsilk Service to be infiuenced so greatly by a tiny insignia. 
Representatives wear . . . a button which has Remember the next time the man at your 
gained recognition for its wearers in over five door says “Realsilk’’ you have only to look for 
million American homes and offices. the button in his lapel . .. then by all means 

When Realsilk started the idea of selling have him come in. He brings to you a rare op- 
hosiery and lingerie direct to the consumer some portunity to save not only on your own hosiery 
six years ago, it was deemed highly important and lingerie, but on the hosiery requirements 
to have an insignia by which genuine Realsilk of the entire family, as well. 












You make your Service could be quickly and easily identified. It Or, if you don’t care to wait until the next a ee 

] iY ‘ > > , , 4 > : é wn Mma 
i * ‘aan was then that the Realsilk Button was adopted. regular visit of the Realsilk Service Man, just p anangel yeu ber. 
your own home And what a happy and tremendous success ‘phone the nearest Realsilk Branch Service Office direct from the mills 






has followed the inauguration of Realsilk Serv- or write the Mills and we will arrange to have 
ice and the Realsilk Button! Last year, the men him call any time you may elect. 


REALSILK 


~ % y et 7 
-. 4 - 5 . 
SOLD DIRECT FROM ~ OUR 10,000 BONDED 


ouRMILIS To. © A -\ ~—- FOR MEN, WOMEN and CHILDREN @] representatives | 
| 
| 






‘ dq « 
THE CONSUMER AT = a oo AILY AT 


ir 7 x ae 
A SAVING | | ] N ( |: RI |: HOMES AND OFFICES 
~*~ 4 4 3 4 4 Sf 


~ vA 
~ 





4 


POON AP —— 






REAL SILK HOSIERY MILLS - ["0ré4’s Largest Manufacturers of Silk Hosiery | « INDIANAPOLIS, IND., U.S.A. 


and Makers of Fine Lingerte 
LT ‘PHONE DIRECT(¢ 





250 BRANCH OFFICES IN THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA. CON RY FOR YOUR LOCAL OFFICE ‘ 26, I 





SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


e rock that saved the house 


, & 
"eho \ ‘ 
_ . Se Y 





Here’s where the fire centered. The 
Gyp-Lap is sound—merely discolored 


_ . 


This new home, at Newcastle, Indiana, was saved by its Gyp-Lap Sheathing Copyright 1926, United States Gypsum Co. 


A kettleful of roofing material bubbling away beside the groove units of Gyp-Lap met to form a fireproof barrier. 
new-sheathed wall of a residence in building. A roar of ex- | 
plosion—a burst of flame—and a mass of blazing pitch hur- 
tles against the wall, threatening both the new house and its 
neighbor with tota! destruction. 


This is an actual occurrence. It happened recently 
during the building of two fine homes, of Spanish de- 
sign, for Dr. H. Edwin Kiddyand Mr.G. O. Newton, 


of Newcastle, Indiana. 
Thirty-five feet high the column of fire shoots, and for 30 min- 
utes burns full force against the building. 3 Sheathe your house with Gyp-Lap. This mineral 
lumber puts a rigid, bracing, lasting wall of fire- 
proof gypsum around the framework and under 
the roofing. It protects, insulates, strengthens, 
and all at no more cost than ordinary wood 
sheathing—indeed, generally for less. 


When finally the firemen subdue the flames, what damage has 
been done? The wooden window frame near where the fiery 
spatter struck is burned to a char. But the building wall itself 
is safe and sound—because it’s sheathed with Gyp-Lap. The min- 
eral lumber has met the fire and defeated it. 

Your dealer in Sheetrock, lumber or building 

supplies sells Gyp-Lap or can get it for you 

promptly from our nearest mill. Made only by 
the United States Gypsum Company. 


Where the burning material struck its outer surface, the fibre 
covering of the Gyp-Lap is charred. But the core of gypsum rock 
within is white, intact. And on the inner surface, next the frame- 
work it protected, no sign shows of the fire that raged only one-half 
inch away. UNITEDSTATESGYPSUM COMPANY 
Not so much as a smoke stain showed behind the joint where the tongue-and- General Offices: 205 West Monroe Street, Chicago, Illinois 


GY PF - 


The Sheathing 


72 designs selected from National Archi- UNITED STATES GYPSUM COMPANY 


tectural Prize Contest for $1.00. Mail Dept. 430, 205 West Monroe Street, Chicago, I]linois 
coupon to Fireproofing Dept. W, U. S. ~ , ) ” 
Gypeum Co.,205 W. Monroe St..Chicago, Send me sample of Gyp-Lap and free Booklet, “Protected Homes. 


PROD 7c; 


Address 
City 








Reg. U.S, Pat. Off. 


Illincis. 









- 

















(Continued from Page 46) 
couch, very early Sarah Bernhardt, de- 
claiming about the Sex Thrill of buttering 
bread, and the Man and Woman signifi- 
cance of locomotives. Still, if one knew 
very famous people one had to expect to 
suffer a little. 

Not the silken woman though. 

“Do you want to stay any longer?” she 
demanded of Reg, savagely. 

“Lord, no.”” Last time he’d gleaned 
quite a bit of amusement from Ruby Cook 
Shipman’s readings to her little audience; 
but with creatures like the silken woman, 
who'd tasted all the fruits of the garden, 
one must always appear bored with every- 
thing. 

“Then why don’t we go?’ 

“i at's.” 

“Shall we say good-by?”’ She hesitated, 
apparently pondering some more subtle 
alternative, then answered herself, ‘‘Oh, 
let’s not. Let’s just go.” 

In the meantime the other guests had 
found cushions and arranged themselves. 
Ruby Cook Shipman was clearing her 
throat. The silken woman glided along 
the wall toward the door. Ruby Cook 
Shipman stopped clearing her throat, and 
just then Reg stumbled on an easel, which 
clattered down. 

““Who’s that?’’ Miss Shipman queried, 
straining to see. 

“Tt’s I,’ Reg answered sheepishly. 

“‘What’s the matter?”’ 

“Why, I—I ”” Reg stammered. 

“T have to go. I’m taking him,’ the 
silken woman snapped. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t care if you go,’’ Miss Shipman 
returned tartly. ‘“‘Shut the door after 
you.” 

Considering her poem, it was perfectly 
plain what that meant. 

“Pooh!”’ said the silken woman, and 
made a particularly scornful face at the 
door. Then she sped down the three flights 
of stairs as though the devil were after her. 

In the street she drew a deep breath. 

“It’s spring,” she said. 

Reg knew that she didn’t mean the 
apple blossom and hepatica spring of 
Elinor Dana, but something elemental and 
fierce—jungle spring; the spring of the 
snow-swollen torrent. 

“Isn't it great?’’ 

“The idea of her thinking we’d sit on 
her filthy floor and listen to that rot!” 

‘“‘Where now?” 

“T’m yoing home.” 

“T’ll try to get a taxi.” 

“You don’t have to take me.’ 

He found that the fresh air was stimu- 
lating the effects of his drinks amazingly. 

“I’m going to though,” he told her with 
a swagger. Then he went to the curb, 
waved his stick and bawled, ‘ Taxi!”’ 

A taxi approached, passed; he ran after 
it. 

“‘Hey, taxi!’’ he shouted; the driver 
snarled something inaudible and sped on, 

From the opposite direction came an- 
other cab. 

“Taxi!’? Reg shouted at it angrily. The 
driver ignored him. 

Reg went back to the sidewalk to find 
the silken woman, with her head flung 
back, laughing a horrid laugh. 

“They won't stop for me.” 

“Couldn't you see they had their flags 
down?” 

“Did they?” 

“You're drunk.” 

“Well, what of it? They could have said 
they were busy.” 

He hated her. 

“1 can walk, I suppose,” she said. 

“No; I'll get you a taxi.” 

Only there was none in sight. 

“T walk I'll said.” 

“You can't talk straight yourself. Who’s 
drunk now?” 

“Don't you dare to call me drunk.” 

“Well ” he began. She glared him 
to silence and started up Lexington Ave- 
nue, he beside her. 

“‘T told you you didn’t have to come.” 

““T’m going to.” 

She didn't speak for at least a block. 


, 


“That's the first time a man ever told 
me | was drunk,”’ she then said resentfully. 
It seemed as though she were going to 
howl imprecations, but she didn’t. She 
changed the subject. ‘“‘I hate New York,” 
she said. 

“So do I,” he agreed, principally be- 
cause he was so relieved. 

“‘T hate it and I’m going to beat it.”’ 

He could picture her belaboring its 
towered skyscrapers unmercifully with 
some scorpion whip of unholy power. He 
felt definitely sorry for the metropolis 
which had incurred her animosity. 

“I gave up everything for New York and 
now I’m going to get even. It’s rotten.” 

He was silent. 

“Well, isn’t it?’’ she demanded. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Look at the Vanderbilts.’”” He could 
remember no particular iniquities of that 
rather rococo family, but he was agreeable 
with gin. 

“Look at them,” he said. 

““Look at the Rockefellers.’ 

It seemed to him that she was defiling 
the inner fastnesses of purity, but he 
hadn’t the strength of purpose to combat 
her just then. 

“You bet,” he agreed. 

It was evident, anyway, that she played 
with the big leaguers. 

“What do they know about love?’ 

“‘Nothing.” 

She gave him a look which shivered him 
profoundly. 

“What do you know about it?”’ 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“‘T mean you don’t know anything about 
it, and it’s wonderful; only you can’t find 
it in New York.” 

Russia! Vienna! Paris! Those were the 
places she must have looked for the strange 
heady love which could move her. 

“Don’t you suppose you ever do?” he 
questioned, and he was not thinking of his 
love for Elinor Dana. 

““No,”’ she tore from her throat and 
threw at him. 

They plodded on in silence. Walking 
was a distinct effort. 

““Where are you going?’’ she demanded 
of him at last, abruptly and angrily. 

“T don’t know.” 

“This is my street.” 

They turned down it. He didn’t notice 
the number. 

““This house.” 

She stopped before a noncommittal 
brownstone one with long front steps. 

**Oh,” was the most intelligent comment 
he could think of. eT 


**Can’t I come in? 

‘““No’’—-she gave the strange laugh again; 
“T should say not.” 

Probably that sober-faced old building 
was full of Chinese servants and sliding 
panels. 

The drink in him made him reckless. 

“I've got to see you again though,” he 
told her, seizing her hand. There was a 
vague memory of Mrs. Dana’s talk and his 
earlier intentions in his mind; but was 
there something else too? 

“Why don’t you come to Broadway 
Moon?” 

“T will. But I meant without having to 
buy a ticket. When?” 

“IT don’t know,” she said. “‘ You'd have 
to find me in the mood. I’m like that. 
I’m moody; I’m temperamental.” 

“Gee, I wish you liked me.” 

“TI do. I like you a lot. Let go my 
hand.” 

“All right.” 

He did so gravely. He felt that a duel 
was on between them. 

She climbed the steps just a little crook- 
edly, called good-by over her shoulder. 
At the top she fished in her purse for her 
key, found it, dropped it. 

**T’ll get it,” Reg volunteered, stumbling 
up a few steps. 

““Go away,” she stormed at him. “ Aren't 
you ever going away? You make me 
nervous.”’ 

He turned and made off, all dull resent- 
ment, but he couldn’t resist looking over 
his shoulder once with a sheepish grin. 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 





She hadn’t found her key, but* she'd 
taken off her hat and was standing laughing 


at the way he walked. 


Tubby Preston was sitting on his shoul- 
der blades in a deep chair in the club 
library, reading the racier case histories 
in a medical book he’d discovered there. 

“What do you think? 
panting in. 

“I never think at all if I can help it,” 
Tubby replied. ‘‘What's struck you?” 

“T’ve met one.” 

“One what?” 

““One of those women you were talking 
about the other night. The silken kind 
that are dangerous to men.” 

It wasn’t the time of day to take such 
phenomena seriously. 

‘Aw, apple sauce,” Tubby said. 

“T have though. Wait till you see her. 
She’s in Broadway Moon.” 

“Are vou tight?” 

“A little. I had to keep up with her 
and you ought to have seen her pour it 
down.” 

“Was she pretty?” 

““She’s so beautiful it scares you. And 
mean Wow!” 

““Where’d you meet her? 

“At that Miss Shipman’s.”’ 

“T thought you couldn’t look at any 
other woman with Elinor Dana in the 
world.” 

““Gee, do you think I’d have had the 
nerve to tackle this one except to prove just 
what I said?” 

““You sound pretty well hooked to me.” 

“Good night, Tubby! I’ve got more 
sense than that. I think it’s up to me to 
get to know her, though, don’t you? If I 
can do that and keep out of trouble it ought 
to shut Mrs. Dana's mouth all right.”’ 

“She gives a Ph.D. in learning about 
women, does she? What's her name?”’ 

“Gee! I don’t know.” 

“How are you going to continue your 
course then?”’ 

“I thought I’d go to Broadway Moon 
tonight and pick her out on the program 
and maybe take her to supper afterward.” 

“How much money have you got on 
you?” 

Reg took out his pocketbook and began 
thumbing over some bills. 

“‘And where do you figure on taking 
her?” Tubby questioned, without waiting 
for his calculations. 

“IT don’t know. A Major Sedgwick that 
takes Mrs. Dana around was talking about 
a place called the Thermidor. He gave me 
a card to it.” 

Tubby whistled a “‘Whew!”’ 

“That's the widest open space in our 
midst,"’ he said. ‘‘Eddie Bezer runs it. 
His places are always the hottest while 
they last. At the Thermidor they bring a 
bottle of champagne right to your table 
and open it with a pop and everything. 
But you can bet you have to pay for cour- 
age like that. What’s the report on your 


> 


teg demanded 


assets - 

“Say, will you count it?’”’ Reg asked. 
“T can’t, with you talking. Anyway that’s 
the only kind of a place you could think of 
taking this woman to.” 

Tubby took the wallet. 

Reg sank to a wide leather couch, and 
his head drooped forward as Tubby ran 
over the contents. 

“ Forty-eightsmackers,”’ Tubby reported, 

“Oh!” Reg blinked open his eyes. 

“Suppose I lend you about thirty dollars 
more.”’ 

“That ought to be plenty.” 

“You think it. You can’t spell plenty in 
a place like the Thermidor under three 
figures. What I suggest is that you don’t 
waste ten dollars on a ticket for the show, 
but just go around to the stage door after- 
ward. Then you can set her up to a light 
supper—a light one, mind you-—and a 
couple of bottles of wine, with a halfway 
easy mind.” 

“You're a genius, Tubby,”’ Reg told him, 
slurring the syllables of that bright epithet 
slightly; ‘“‘and say, can I borrow your 
dinner clothes? Mine are at the tailor’s.”’ 








This 
System Prevents 


Crank Case 
Dilution 


Present-day motor fuel does not 
explode completely. Unburned 
gasoline in large quantities works 
from the combustion chambers 
down past the pistons to thin the 
oil in the crank case. 
engine wear results. 


Exc essive 


No automobile engine can be free 
from the ravages of oil dilution— 
unless this unburned gasoline is 
prevented from accumulating in the 
crank case. 

This is the exact function of the Skinner 
Oil Rectifying Svstem. As the engine 


operates, the diluted oil is drawn to the 
Skinner Oil Rectifier where it is contin 
uously refined. The gasoline vapor, 
which is distilled off, passes back to the 
combustion chambers—the rectified oil 


to the crank case. 


The results 


tained—excess wear elimineted—ail with 


perfect lubrication main- 


out the necessity of frequent changes of oil 
Truly modern cars 
ore than 80,000 tu 
date are equipped 
withthe Skinner Sys 
tem. Mail the cou 
pon below for com 


plete information 


Y 
ki r Oil Rectifier, the 
init of the 
nnerSystem,with « 
v section. The di 
d ectified in the 
uPt partment by 
hea the exhaust 
¥ e c t } iis 
< t te the i wer 
< r for returr 
t ank case 





OIL RECTIFYING 


SYSTEM 








- 
. on 

| 

= — 
| Make ( | 
A ce tN EE J 








to go to Europe 
in the fall 


ISE too. The rush is over. Lon- 

don and Paris are at their best. 
The weather is moderate. Better accom- 
modations abroad and cheaper. And 
they are doubly wise who go on United 
States Lines ships. For at noextra expense 
they make sure of the highest standard 
of travel-comfort in the world and the 
best cuisine on the North Atlantic. 


S. S. George Washington 
Swift, steady, beautiful—a luxurious 
home onthe sea. First, second and Tour- 
ist third class to Plymouth, Cherbourg 
and Bremen. 

S. S. Leviathan 
Flagship of the Fleet and most famous 
ship in the world. First, second, Tourist 
third to Cherbourg and Southampton. 


S. S. President Harding and 
S. S. President Roosevelt 
The fastest Cabin (one-class) ships on 
the North Atlantic. To Cobh (Queens- 
town), Plymouth, Cherbourg and 


Bremen. 
S. S. Republic 
The famous cruise liner. A Cabin ship 
without first or second class distinctions 
to Cobh (Queenstown), Plymouth, 
Cherbourg and Bremen. 
Get complete information from 
your local steamship agent or 
write to the address below 


United 
States Lines 


45 BROADWAY (Gy a 
—— 
Chart of Rates 


FLRST CLASS) CABIN CLASS 
wm | ry ale) 








S.S.LEVIATHAN | S.S.PRESIDENT 

$265 and up HARDING and 

\ S.S.PRESIDENT 
{ ROOSEVELT 
$145 and up 
| S.S.REPUBLIC 
|. $140 and up 


S.S.GEORGE | 
WASHINGTON 
$ 210 and up 


SECOND CLASS | TOURIST THIRD 


Pike | 
S.8. LEVIATHAN | 
5147.50 and up | 
8.8. GEORGE 
WASHINGTON 
$136.25 - 
and up 


Aan 
From §95~ Round 
Trip $170 up 
depending 
on ship 
and 
destination. 





THE SATURDAY 


| “Why not wait till tomorrow night 
| then?”’ 

“Aw, you have to do this sort of thing 
while you’ve got your nerve. Anyway, 
Saturday night’’—it seemed as though his 
energy was guttering a little too low to 
complete the sentence, but he did—‘‘Sat- 
urday night I’d never have a chance.” 

Tubby considered his friend. 

“Don’t borrow my dinner clothes or 
anybody else’s,” he advised. “‘She’s seen 
you in what you've got on. It looks a good 
deal doggier than Bond Street’s best built 
for somebody else.” 

“Aw right,”” Reg acquiesced, very very 
close to the land of Nod. 

Tubby added a twenty and a ten dollar 
bill to the collection in the pocketbook, 
which he still held. 

“This fixes the financial end,”’ he said. 
““Now you catch a little sleep. That’ll be 
good for what ails you.” 

“I’m not a bit sleepy,’”’ Reg murmured, 
never opening his eyes, which were shut. 

Tubby swung his friend around, lifting 
his legs to the seat of the couch, arranged 
his hands on his chest, and folding the 
wallet into a neat black calla lily, thrust it 
between them. 

Reg grinned. 

Tubby then wrote out a sign that Mr. 
Brown was in conference with D. T. Mor- 
pheus and pinned it on the door. 


Ruth Mosher climbed the long walnut 
flights to the apartment she shared with 
her sister Madge, in a glow of something 
not unlike triumph. As she looked back a 
little hazily on the afternoon, she realized 
that she hadn’t had such a bad time. To 
explain why that should have been a cause 
for exultation will require some historical 
paragraphs. 

The summer before, Madge Mosher, the 
pocket comedienne, had gone home to Hud- 
son, New York, for her first vacation after 
three solid years of hard work and had 


| found her little sister Ruth no longer little, 


and glueyly involved in a love affair which 
simply made Madge sick—one of those 
silent, glum, hopeless love affairs with a 
gigantic bumpkin named Henry Boyd, who 
came twice every day and sat and sat. 

Of course Ruth was green or she never 
would have chosen Henry in the first place 
or stood for him in any of the other places, 
but she was as beautiful as a thunderstorm 
and she had style, even in Hudson and on 
the few pennies a year which were left of 


| their patrimony. Madge decided to play 


fairy godmother as well as big sister. 

With a little insidious propaganda she 
made Ruth wonder if Henry Boyd was the 
complete dream prince she had been pic- 
turing him, and then she suggested a job as 
show girl in Broadway Moon, which was 
just going into rehearsal—a job all ap- 
plause and spotlights and commissions to 
pose for the magazines in breathlessly 
recent frocks. 

Ruth, besides being human, was one of 
the most romantically minded young 








——". a 


| women alive. The thought of herself as a 
| tinsel figure on the Broadway for every one 


of whose lights, she had been lyrically in- 
formed, there was a broken heart, swept 
her from her feet. Madge carried her back 
to New York in triumph. 

Things hadn’t gone exactly as either of 
them foresaw, however. The group which 
shrewd, funny little Madge had collected 
as friends in the city were not very roman- 
tic, and their demand was for a humorous 
good fellowship, which was the last thing 
in the world Ruth Mosher could supply. 

Ruth, who was cursed with a shyness 
such as few people have to endure, who 
was grotesquely awkward in her treatment 
of strangers, and who was both homesick 
and lovesick, had passed a winter of com- 
| plete misery during which everyone con- 
cluded that she was an old grouch. 

With the best intentions, Madge had 
done the worst thing possible under the 
circumstances. All winter long she had 
nagged Ruth with one consistent plaint. 

“Why don’t you step out, dearie? 
What's the good of looking like a certified 





EVENING POST 


check if you’re just going to sit around the 
home and mope? When I introduce you 
to somebody why not pretend, for a change, 
that the whole world isn’t dead and you 
left for chief mourner? Give ’em a smile, 
dearie; it’s good for your ear muscles.” 

The effect had been an almost complete 
paralysis of Ruth’s powers of enjoyment, 
and that is why, climbing the stairs, she 
looked back on the afternoon, to which she 
had been driven by the fact that Madge 
was entertaining a suitor in their minute 
apartment, with a certain tipsy elation. It 
certainly hadn’t been so bad. 

She opened the door. Madge was lying 
on the article of furniture which the sisters 
called by the rather stingy title of day bed. 

*‘Has he gone?”’ Ruth asked. 

“Yep,”’ Madge answered in her custom- 
ary vein. “‘You can crawl back into your 
hole. Did you have a good time? No, 
don’t answer. I know you didn’t. Your 
shoes hurt, or something, and you got off in 
a corner and were scared, and looked mad, 
and didn’t speak to anybody till you saw 
a chance to skin away.” 

Ordinarily Ruth would merely have given 
her sister a hurt look, and so for granted 
did Madge take her attitude that without 
hearing Ruth’s quite belligerent “Is that 
so?” she went right on. 

“‘T was saying to Bill Trumbull this after- 
noon that they ought to run a special num- 
ber in the show for you, called She’s Only a 
Hick at Heart. Why, if I had your 
looks ——— I was saying to Bill that if I 
looked like you I’d go to Flo Ziegfeld’s 
office, or as close to it as I could get, and 
say, ‘Now, Flo Ziegfeld, either star me 
tomorrow or cut out this nonsense about 
glorifying the American girl.’”’ 

“Well, I hope that Trumbull man 
slapped your face,’’ Ruth said. 

“And that’s another thing about you,” 
Madge went on in her praiseworthy at- 
tempt to improve her little sister’s technic; 
“the way you get shocked. My Lord! I’m 
as good a girl as works on Broadway, but 
thank heaven I’ve got a good loose tongue 
and an eardrum that never even heard of 
the blush department. That’s something 
you want to learn. You can wake right up 
to 1926 and never disqualify for the Ep- 
worth League; and what’s more, you’ve 
got to. Sister’s decided that this is wake-up 
week,” 

It was then that Madge noticed a change 
in her sister’s demeanor. 

“Now you cut that out,’’ Ruth said to 
her. “I’m tired of that line, do you under- 
stand? Cut it out.” 

If Madge hadn’t been in the middle of 
the day bed she’d have fallen off. 

“Well, for the love of Pete!’ she said. 
“What’s the matter with you?” 

“About everything, according to you,” 
Ruth returned. “I’m dumb. I’m countri- 
fied. Your bright little friends can’t stand 
me. Well, I’ve found somebody who can, 
see?” 

Madge’s ability for wise-cracking had en- 
tirely deserted her. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, just 
like the heroine of a legitimate piece. 

Ruth was so sleepy she could just keep 
her eyes open, but all the resentment 
against Madge she had been piling up all 
winter was finding blessed expression. 

“IT mean,” she said with a glare, “‘that 
we don’t all have to be the life of the party. 
He liked me, and he was a sheik with a pink 
necktie and a lot better looking than Bill 
Trumbull or any of the rest of your old 
joke makers. He liked mea lot. And now 
I’m sleepy and I’m going to take a nap. 
You’ve had the room all afternoon. Get 
out.” 

“Ruth Mosher,” Madge said succinctly, 
“‘you've been drinking.” 

Ruth looked at her and emitted that 
strange laugh of hers. 

“1?” she said. “‘That’s the first good 
one you’ve made for a month. And now I 
want you to get out of here. Do you under- 
stand? Get out. Get out.” 

With that she flung herself down, and 
before Madge had time to obey her, had 
Madge so intended, she was sound asleep. 


August 14, 1926 


Madge leaned over her and smelied her 
breath. Madge herself smoked, of course, 
toyed with cocktails occasionally, and even 
described herself, for the sake of drama, as 
“tight’’; she’d made fun of Ruth’s prim- 
ness on both points, and yet at the reek 
of Ruth’s breath she was thoroughly scared. 
Had she, by her fool talk, given Ruth crazy 
ideas? 

Madge could trust herself to keep within 
caution’s limits; she wasn’t an inexperi- 
enced beauty. 

For several moments Madge indulged in 
the weakness of something very like wring- 
ing her hands, then she pulled herself to- 
gether. This was probably the first time 
with Ruth, and whether it was or not, Ruth 
must sleep off her condition and be ready 
for the evening’s performance. 

To that end Madge made black coffee 
and drew a cold tub. At the latest feasible 
moment she awakened her sister and ap- 
plied them. Thereafter Ruth was herself 
again. 

“‘T don’t know why I ever went to sleep 
in that dress, or you let me,” she fretted. 

Madge exercised tact. 

“The wrinkles will hang out of it,’’ she 
counseled. “‘Why don’t you wear that red 
dinner dress you’ve hardly had on, to the 
theater? It’s easy to get into. We haven’t 
time to eat. I’m going to supper with Bill 
after the show. I’ll get him to take you 
too.” 

“‘T don’t want to butt in,” Ruth said, as 
she'd said a great many times, but Madge 
wondered if she had some secret engage- 
ment. 

“Just as you say.” 

Ruth looked at her, pleased and sur- 
prised at the absence of persiflage. 

**T don’t know what made me so sleepy,” 
she remarked. ‘‘Spring, I suppose.” 

“‘Perhaps,’’ Madge said. 

Did Ruth actually think she was getting 
away with something, she wondered? Or 
had she perhaps been getting away with 
something up till now? It was up to her 
to find out. 

In the taxi she laid her hand on Ruth’s 
arm. 

“‘Look here, old-timer,” 
her. ‘‘What about this afternoon? 
was the man?” 

The change from her habitual manner 
was most welcome to her sister’s ears. 

“Oh, somebody,” Ruth answered, pro- 
tecting the new relationship. “‘ You don’t 
know him.” . 

“Well, why don’t I? I thought you’d 
have better sense than to go around with 
any man before I gave him the up and 
down. New York’s a pretty tricky place, 
you know, Egg.” 

“You’re funny,” Ruth accused her. ‘Up 
till now all I’ve heard is what a fool I’ve 
been not to know more men and have a 
good time.” 

“‘T didn’t mean that an inexperienced 
kid like you ought to start twosing with 
some stranger.” 

“Well, I’ve got to if I’m going to twose 
at all,”’ Ruth said, thoroughly enjoying 
her sudaen promotion to the rank of a 
serious problem. “‘ Your friends don’t like 
me.” 

““Now look here, Ruth Mosher,’’ Madge 
said tensely, ‘“‘you’ve simply got to tell 
me a!l about this business.”’ 

‘Sometime, maybe.” 

“This minute.”” Madge was almost cry- 
ing. ‘‘How do you expect me to go and be 
funny for a fifteen-thousand-dollar house 
if I’m worried to death about you? I can’t 
and I won’t. You've got to tell me every- 
thing. In the first place, where were you 
this afternoon? I thought you were going 
to that crazy Miss Shipman’s.”’ 

Ruth was really touched. “I did,’ she 
said. 

“Then who was the man?” 

“Just a man I met there.” 

“*Never seen him before?”’ 

“No.” 

“What did you drink?” 

“Not a thing but a little fruit punch. I 
wish you'd get over that idea.” 

Continued on Page 52 


she addressed 


Who 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 









‘ se meray ee 
3.) Se ae PRG er co ae 




















: THERE 1S NO FINER PERFORMANCE THAN 
| STRAIGHT EIGHT PERFORMANCE - AND NO - 
| | FINER STRAIGHT EIGHT THAN HUPMOBILE a 


BEAUTY.COLOR OPTIONS.LUXURY IN SEVEN ENCLOSED AND OPEN 
BODIES, °1945 TO *2495 F.0.B. DETROIT. PLUS REVENUE TAX 


~~ 





im THE FINE CAR FIELD. THE FARAEND (8S UNDOUBTEDLY TOWARD EIGHTS , 






reese 





Ban dese 


Here is a cone 
that is real cake 


Ir takes real cake batter to 
give McLaren Real Cake Cones 
such crisp, sugary goodness. 
The best wheat flour, fine short- 
flavoring and 
pure Mixed 
baked in spotless bakeries by 


ening, vanilla 


cane sugar. and 


automatic machinery. Pure, 
wholesome as 
Safe and healthful for 


light and sugar 
cookies. 
the children that love ice cream 
SU well. 

Patronize Real Cake dealers. 
You'll find their entire fountain 
service is of the same high stand- 
ard as the cones they serve. 


McLaren Real Cake 
Ask 
jobber, or 


To all who se cones 


Cones will increase vour business, 


your tice cream manufacturer or 


write for samples to McLaren Consolidated 


Cone Corporation, Dayton, Ohio 


Look for the name MCLAREN on every cone 


MSLAREN 


REAL CAKE CONES 


4 


( 


Bakeries or warehouses in 65 principal 


‘fies imsure prompt xervice everywhere 


THE SATURDAY 


(Continued from Page 50 

“Fruit punch! Why, that’s the deadliest 
drug they brew in this town. Didn’t you 
honestly know you were boiled when you 
came home this afternoon?”’ 

“Oh, Madge! Was I really?”’ 

“Kiss me, my lily!’’ Madge cried. In 
her relief she would have liked to turn 
a row of her famous cart wheels. Instead, 
noticing that they’d passed the theater, 
she pushed back the front window and com- 
muned with the driver. 

“Hey, you poor fish, backwater for half 
a block or two. I said the Bijou.” 

“‘T’'ve always wondered,” she explained 
to Ruth as they were jerked along, “whether 
these meters refunded when you're in re- 
verse. They don’t. Hop out. It’s late. 
We've got to switch the tin hips pretty 
fast if we’re going to beat the call boy.” 

Just from her tone in saying those few 
words, Ruth suspected that she, Ruth, 
had backslid to the unenviable position 
she’d occupied all winter. 

How hopelessly she’d regained it she 
didn’t realize, however, until the interval 
in the last act when, the stage being oc- 
cupied by a stretch of plot, Madge was 
free and dropped into the dressing room 
Ruth shared with five other statuesque 
beauties. 

“Sure you don’t want to slide out with 
me and the boy friend tonight, kiddo?’’ she 
asked. 

“No, thanks. 
bed.” 

“TI should think you’d played enough 
shut eye for a while,’”” Madge answered and 
began to snigger devilishly. 

““What’s the laugh?” Flora Breteche 
inquired. 

“Don’t you dare tell,”” Ruth implored 
her sister. 

“Oh, what is it, Madge?”’ Liane Lacey 
evinced her interest. 

One thing Madge Mosher could not re- 
sist was a chance to clown before an appre- 
ciative audience. 

“Oh, I couldn’t tell on Woothums,” she 
said. ‘““You know Woothums is a home 
girl. She’s the original Bright Eyes that 
looked under the cabbages for what the 
stork brought.” 

Ruth was at that moment getting into 
the costume she wore as Héloise in the 
Cycle of Great Loves. 

“Shut up, Madge,’”’ she commanded. 

“Would you think, to look at her,” 
Madge went on, ‘‘that all you have to do 
is give her an egg to fry on the gas plate and 
she’s as happy as a chorus boy in polo 
clothes? Oh, it’s a croo!l shame, fellas, 
when she’s got six dimples in her back. 
Six—-count ’em--six.”’ 

To do so was perfectly possible when 
Ruth was in the Héloise costume. 

“But what’s the special joke?” Flora 
Breteche persisted in her rather dull blond 
way. 

‘*Woothums just made a little misstep 
that perhaps we’d better forget,’”’ Madge 
told her. 

“If you really must know’’— Ruth faced 
them all fiercely—‘‘I was drunk this after- 
noon.” 

‘*And what's worse,’’ Madge said, point- 
ing one finger in the Beatrice Lillie gesture, 
‘*she never knew what was wrong with her 
till sister explained. Can you beat it? You 
can, but it seems a little cruel before it’s 
even hatched.” 

With those words she made a running 
exit. 

Ruth had never known it was possible 
to hate anyone as much as she hated her 
sister at that moment. 

A bluff! That was what Madge was, a 
show-off bluff! Why, she’d been almost 
sick with worry until Ruth took pity on 
her. 

Next time maybe she wouldn’t get off 
so easily; maybe there'd really be some- 
thing to tell. 

“A Broadway butterfly,”” Ruth mur- 
mured through clenched teeth as she made 
up her lips for the final time. ‘That's 
what she’s driving me to be. All right for 
her.” 


I’m going right home to 


EVENING POST 


The only thing was that the chances of 
there being a next time were very slight. 
Madge would see to that. 

It was rather the face of Lucrezia Borgia 
than that of the lorn Héloise which Ruth 
Mosher saw in her mirror. 


Reg Brown was the second person to 
arrive at the stage door of Broadway Moon, 
and he might have been a little abashed to 
hang around it had not the first comer been 
so obviously ill at ease. The first comer’s 
discomfort was impressive because there 
was so much of him to be self-conscious. 
He was tremendous. Even the outermost 
outsizes in garments, with which he had 
evidently fitted himself, were inadequate 
to his proportions. 

“Say,” he asked Reg, after teetering 
around for some time and looking at his 
watch twice, ‘had you ought to go up and 
ask for the girl you want to see?”’ 

Reg flicked an ash from his cigarette. 

“Tf you know her name,” he said. 

The first comer looked at him with dis- 
trustful eyes. 

“Know her name!” he repeated. 
course I know her name.” 

“Then go ask for her.” 

The first comer went to the door. 

Reg heard him inquire for Miss Mosher, 
and heard the doorkeeper tell him it was 
against orders to admit anyone. 

“He wouldn’t let me in,” the individual 
reported in a resentful tone. 

Reg was prepared. 

“Did you slip him a fiver?’’ he asked, 
as though he’d taken it for granted that 
anyone speaking to a stage-door man did 
that. 

“Had I ought to have?” 

“Never hurts any.” 

Reg wished Mrs. Dana could have heard 
his tone. 

The first comer teetered some more in 
miserable indecision, but several young 
men came up, and finally he lunged to the 
entrance again, conferred with the door 
man and disappeared. 

After some minutes girls began pouring 
out. 

Reg kept his eyes on their faces, which 
were amazingly alike in smart poster- 
ish make-up. He wondered, in a panic, 
whether he would recognize the silken 
woman among them. Then suddenly he 
knew he had wronged her. She stood be- 
fore him unique, unparalleled in her cruel 
beauty. 

“Hello,” he said. “I’ve got a taxi wait- 
ing this time.”’ 

“Oh,” she returned. 
for?”’ 

“To take us to the Thermidor.”’ 

“You're crazy,’ she told him in per- 
fectly automatic reaction. ‘‘What do you 
think I am?” 

“Why, I--I ” he stammered, com- 
pletely deflated, “I’m awfully sorry.” 

At that instant she remembered how 
angry she was at Madge. 

‘What's the Thermidor?”’ 

“A night club.” 


a 


“Tt’s you. What 


she asked. 





COPYRIGHT BY HILEMAN 


Kinnerty Peak, Glacier National Park 


August 14,1926 


Of course, Reg thought, she was used to 
secret, private places practically none could 
get in. 

“Ts it gay?’’ she questioned. 

“‘T guess they keep it as cheery as they 
an.” 

“T’ll go with you,’”’ Ruth Mosher flamed 
forth; but she added with deep, instinctive 
caution, “Only you’re not going to get 
away with a thing. Understand?” 

It was the preliminary, flourishing salute 
to another round of the duel. Reg had to 
live up to it. 

“Neither are you,” he said. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Vhat do you?” 

Somewhat shaken, both of them, the 
duelists entered his conveyance. 

The first comer had asked for Miss 
Mosher. Officially there was only one 
Miss Mosher in Broadway Moon-- Madge 
Mosher the pocket comedienne. The 
syllables ‘“‘Ruth Mosher’ would have 
looked very mean indeed among the im- 
aginative designations of the ladies of the 
chorus, and they had been forsaken for the 
more practical working name of Yolande 
Worthington. 

The first comer climbed iron stairs to 
Dressing Room 12, and rapped; Madge 
Mosher’s eye appeared in a crack. 

“Henry Boyd, as I breathe and bellow!” 

Covered as she was with cold cream, and 
in her messiest kimono, Madge threw open 
the door. 

“Hello, Madge.” 

“Well, how did you get here? Come in.” 

“Where's Ruth?” 

“Oh, you courtly old thing!’ she called 
him. “Always lingering over the little 
courtesies that mean so much to a woman. 
She’s on the other side of the stage in Room 
21. Beat it right over.” 

Henry found Room 21 after asearch. It 
was dark. He went back to Madge. 

“Ruth must have gone home,’’ Madge 
said; “unless she’s stopped to talk to some 
other girl. Go ask the man at the door if 
Miss Worthington’s left. That’s Ruth.” 

Henry said nothing, as was his custom, 
and descended the stairs. Four minutes 
later he was again pounding on Madge’s 
door. 

“Say, the information clerk was just 
about to leave,’’ Madge said. ‘‘ What’s the 
question now?” 

*Ruth’s gone with some man that was 
waiting outside.” 

“Oh, she has not.” 

“The door man saw her.” 

“Well, I don’t know who.” 
racked her brain. 

“Of course you don’t,”” Henry was in- 
furiated by her calmness. ‘‘I was talking 
to this man. I know what this thing is. 
He didn’t know Ruth’s name. He was just 
waiting for a girl.” 

“Didn’t know 
echoed. 

Henry Boyd proceeded to have a gigantic 
clumsy, uncoérdinated crise de nerfs. 

“That’s what I said. He was just a 
stage-door johnny. That’s what you've got 
her into. And I'm going to find them, and 
I’m going to smash his face. I’m going to 
beat the stuffing out of him. I hate him. 
I hated him the minute I saw that pink tie 
of him.” 

“Pink tie!’’ Madge cried 
Henry, that’s the one. We 
find them.” 

““Where'll they be?”’ 

“At some night club, I suppose.”’ 

“Well, we'll find them,’ Henry pro- 
claimed, and Madge saw that in his nerv- 
ousness he’d twisted the structural iron of 
the staircase considerably out of true, “if 
we have to go to every one in this rotten 
town. We'll find him and I'll teach him 
what he can do to my girl.” 

He brought his fist down on a marble 
window sill and it cracked. 

‘“Come on,” he urged. 

Madge grabbed her hat. They tore down 
the stairs and into the night. 


Madge 


’ 


her name!” Madge 


““My Lord! 
have got to 


(TO BE CONCLUDED 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


‘The Life Stream of Your Motor Car 


A dazzling, fiery stream empties great the bearings are what take the motion. 


bucket-like “ladles” of molten metal into Right where the motion comes—in trans 
molds that form twelve-sided “ingots” of missions, differentials, pinion or worm 
steel. Here flows the very life-substance drives, rear wheels, front wheels, steering 
of your automobile or motor truck. pivots, and fans—it is vital to know that accessibility, a 


you have the finest steel for the purpose. ‘i , 

ae. Only improved 
. _— ; ; Timken Bearings assure you not only a " 

output of electric furnace steel in the world, : hand i. and 

to material, but also as to enduring design. as ' , 

: Timken Bearings daily to 


Only Timken’s own mill, with the largest 
endurance could be 


produces this fine material. It is destined 
for the bearings of all types of mechani- The wear of thrust, shock, torque and _ already universally applied. Yor 
cal devices, including 91% of all makes of speed is defeated by such factors of design whole automotive an 
motor vehicles in America. The bearings as Timken POSITIVE ROLL ALIGNMENT when you buy Ti 


make the life of your car or truck, because and Timken Taper. By eliminating ex rHE TIMKEN ROLLER 


IM KEN 221. 
Roller 





54 


Here’s a lather 
that goes é 


THE SATURDAY 


down dee 


—that softens the beard 
at the base, right where 
the razor does its work 


TRANGELY enough, 

most men think that 
piling lather on the face 
will give them greater 
shaving comfort. 

But this is a fallacy. 
For scientific tests conclu- 
sively prove that it’s not 
the quantity, buc the qual- 
ity, of the lather that 
really counts. 

It’s the way the lather 
brings water deep down 
to the base of the beard 
that really makes shaving 
easy —for water, not 
shaving cream, is the real 
softener of your beard. 

And it was upon this 
principle of softening the 
reard at the base with 
moisture that this new 
type of shaving cream 
was developed. 

Colgate’s is shaving 
cream in concentrated 
form —super water-ab- 
sorbent—different in ac- 
tion and result from any- 
thing you have ever 
known ae 

In this lather, the bub- 
bles are smaller, as the microscope 
shows; they hold more water and 
much less air; they give more points 
of moisture contact with the Sod 

So that this moisture may soak 
right into the beard, Colgate’s first 
emulsifies and removes the oil film 
that covers every hair. 

Then quickly thousands of cling- 
ing, moisture-laden bubbles penetrate 
deep down to the base of the beard— 
bring and hold an abundant supply 
of water in direct contact with the 
bottom of every hair. 
the entire beard becomes 
wringing wet—soft and pliable— 
softened down at the base, where 
the razor does its work. 


pared 


Thus 


2 St. Ambroise St 
Montreal 


SOFTENS THE BEARD AT THE BASE 


ORDINARY LATHER 


Photomicrograph of 
lather of an ordinary 
shaving cream surround- 
ing single hair. 
dark spots are air —white 
areas are water. 
how the large bubbles 
hold air instead of water 
against beard. 


Large 


Note 


COLGATE LATHER 


Photomicrograph _ pre- 
under 
conditions shows fine 
closely knit texture of 
Colgate’s Rapid - Shave 
Cream lather, Note how 
the small bubbles hold 
water instead of air close 
against the beard. 


identical 


In this way the beard 
becomes properly  sof- 
tened right where the cutting takes 
place. “Razor pull’ is entirely ban- 
ished. 

In addition, Colgate lather lubri- 
cates the path of the razor—lets it 
glide across your face without catch- 
ing or dragging. And it leaves your 
skin clean, cool and comfortable 
throughout the day. 

Here is a shaving experience such 
as you have never enjoyed before. 

Test it 10 days 
Clip and mail the coupon printed below— 
just to learn what Colgate’s offers. Com- 
pare it with any other shaving method 
you have ever used and note the remark- 
able improvement it brings. 


Est. 1806 
NEW YORK 








COLGATE & CO. 
Dept. 140-H, 581 Fifth Ave., New York 


Shave Cream for better shaving 


Name 


Address 





Please send me the trial tube of Colgate’s Rapid 
I enclose 4 








| well-founded 


EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


PRODUCTION AND PROSPERITY 


(Continued from Page 13) 


Nothing destroys more completely the or- 
derly conduct of business than the existence 
of political risk. 

‘Happily the relations between business 
and our Government are becoming better 
understood. There has been a definite cor- 
rection of abuses in business conduct on the 
one hand, while on the other a wider dis- 
tribution of corporate ownership has given 
an increasing percentage of our people a 
voice in corporate management, resulting in 
management recognizing that one of its 
most important obligations is the necessity 
of conducting business within the law. To- 
day, upon the whole, American business has 
confidence in the stability and fairness of 
the Government. Herein is an important 
element of our continued prosperity. 

“Second come the results of the produc- 
tive effort of the nation. Other factors be- 
ing equal, that nation which possesses and 
properly utilizes the most abundant and 
diversified supply of raw material for indus- 
try and manufacture and has an adequate 
area of fertile soil under suitable climatic 
conditions to sustain its people and furnish 
a surplus food production should be the 
most prosperous. 

“In these respects the position of the 
United States is not approached by any 
other nation. With about 6 per cent of the 
population of the world and 5.7 per cent of 
the land area, in 1924 it produced 38 per 
cent of the world total of coal, 70 per cent of 
the petroleum, 54 per cent of the copper, 40 
per cent of the lead, 25 per cent of the 
wheat, 30 per cent of cereals other than 
wheat, 55 per cent of cotton, 52 per cent of 
lumber, 46 per cent of pig iron, 49 per cent 
of steel ingots and castings, and 58 per cent 
of paper. It possessed 38 per cent of the 
installed water power, 58 per cent of the 
telegraphic and telephone lines, 33 per cent 
of the railroads, and 83 per cent of the auto- 
mobiles and motor trucks of the world. 
These are the basic elements of our pros- 
perity. 

“Third, I place organized industry. The 
mere possession of potential elements of 
wealth is valueless unless they are properly 
utilized. The function of organized indus- 
try is to coérdinate and control the factors 
of production and distribution, so as to 
make available in adequate quantity to 
meet consumptive demand at a price that 
can be paid, the commodities required by 
the markets of the world.” 


Our Many Irons in the Fire 


“Perhaps no accomplishment of national 
effort has been more successful than the 
standard to which America has organized 
its industry. Scientific study of cost data, 
elimination of waste, promotion of effi- 
ciency, and perhaps more than any other 
one factor, the mechanization of industry, 
has established the supremacy of American 
production methods. As a result, the 
volume of production has been greatly in- 
creased, the hours of labor have been de- 
creased, wages increased, and to a great 
extent, manual labor has been robbed of its 
most onerous burdens. The relations be- 
tween employer and employe have been 
improved. Comparative industrial peace 
has been achieved. Costly and wasteful 
controversies, resulting in idleness and pov- 
erty, have been greatly lessened. The social 
status has been improved, making not only 
for a more contented home life but for a 
better citizenship as well. This is a vital 
element in our prosperity. 

“Fourth is diversity of occupation. No 
conclusion as to the per- 
manency of national prosperity can fail to 
give important consideration to the number 
of factors that constitute the whole. While 
the industrial fabric is more or less inter- 
woven, the relationship is not so close but 
that some lines may go bad without affect- 
ing the others. A nation dependent upon a 
single or comparatively few lines of gainful 
effort is much more likely to experience 


violent fluctuations in its general economic 
status than one more fortunately environed 
by a multiplicity of gainful pursuits. This 
is what insurance companies designate as a 
diversity of risk. In this respect the United 
States is most fortunate. 

“‘ Few realize the extent of the transition 
that has occurred in the United States 
which has transformed it from an agri- 
cultural to an industrial nation. Out of our 
total population nearly one-half are engaged 
in gainful occupation. Of these, the num- 
ber employed in manufacturing and me- 
chanical operations has steadily increased 
in proportion to the number employed in 
agriculture, the relative loss of the latter in 
1870 to 1920 being nearly one-half. The 
contribution to national income now comes 
from so many sources that we have an 
additional assurance of prosperity. 

“In addition there should be mentioned 
the possession of a sound currency, ade- 
quate banking facilities, and an unequaled 
transportation system.” 


Efficiency in Management 


“All these spell the factors of enduring 
national prosperity for the United States, 
if we but exercise a reasonable self-control, 
avoid reckless overproduction, unjustified 
expansion, and extravagant expenditures. 
If we only maintain our governmental in- 
stitutions and carefully manage the vast 
heritage of industrial and agricultural 
wealth that has come to us, our country 
and its people should continue to enjoy the 
blessing of a prosperity never before at- 
tained by any nation or people. So far as 
America is concerned there can be no cause 
for pessimism, and dread forebodings are 
unjustified. We shall continue to have 
good times in America.” 

While quantity production has been 
made possible by individual initiative and 
labor-saving effort, efficient management 
methods have contributed largely to our 
immense industrial achievement. I there- 
fore asked John W. O’Leary, of Chicago, 
banker, builder, and president of the 
Chamber of Commerce of the United 
States, to emphasize its place in our ex- 
pansion. He said: 

“The differing replies to a query on the 
contributory causes of our present pros- 
perity are manifold. One says reduction in 
taxation; another, our creditor position as 
a nation; the third, our newly acquired 
habit of investment; the fourth, an atti- 
tude of coéperation of government and 
business as contrasted with a former atti- 
tude of antagonism. Our banking system, 
our credit system, our natural resources, 
our immigration policy, all have their 
advocates. 

“There is a measure of truth in each 
answer. Many factors have contributed to 
our present prosperous position. Fortu- 
nately we have, through intelligent man- 
agement and coéperation, utilized all of the 
factors. 

*“‘After all, wise management of our op- 
portunities has been largely responsible for 
our present prosperity. We might have 
continued the extravagances which im- 
mediately followed the Armistice, and suf- 
fered today as a result. We might have 
maintained our wartime taxation and thus 
hampered our progress. We might have 
sold our Liberty Bonds, spent the money, 
and been poorer today. We might have 
drifted back to a policy of restrictive busi- 
ness legislation, and discouraged initiative. 
And we might have made none of these 
mistakes, but failed to follow new policies 
of management of purely business enter- 
prise, and not have prosperity. 

“The responsibility of management of 
business enterprise during and following 
our deflation period has been large. 

“The responsibility to the public to see 
that the price of the product is kept as low 
as possible and yet permit the industry to 

Continued on Page 56 








-— % 


a 
















b | 
" 


i. 
ie 
j Ss 
ar 


ch 


In the 


(GREATEST RB UJ [CK EVER BUILT- 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


only oil 


rir t 


anges a year 








The familiar warning, ‘‘Drain Crankcase 
Oil Every 500 Miles” does not apply to 
the 1927 Buick, because it has the Vacuum 
Ventilator. 


This remarkable new device protects the en- 
gine from diluted oil, and reduces to 4-a-year 
the recommended number of oil changes. 


There is not a single moving part in Buick’s 
new guard for lubrication efficiency. 
Vacuum created by the air flow does the 
work. It pulls all harmful vapors out of the 
crankcase as you drive. 


With the 1927 Buick, all you need to do is add 
oil occasionally to keep the proper level. 
Then change it each Spring, Summer, Fall 
and Winter as a supercaution. 


Never, in the 22 successful Buick years, 
has Buick produced a car so far ahead of 
its field in performance and value. 


Convince yourself! Go to your Buick dealer 
and drive this great new car. 


BUICK MOTOR COMPANY, FLINT, MICH. 


Division of General Motors Corporation 








-~e 


VALVE-IN-HEAD 





o. 





WHEN BETTER AUTOMOBILES ARE BUILT :+ BUICK WILL BUILD THEM 
4G — Fe Le | re 











MOTOR CARS 














THE SATURDAY 


here can be no 


— 


Compromise with Si afety 


yi 























PIeaa?* 


‘no harm done - 


Weed Bumpers 


They save a lot of cuss words—as well as car 
scars—do WEED Bumpers and Fender Guards. 
They let you laugh at ordinary traffic wallops. 


You ought to see how they’re made! Out of 
spring steel best suited to the purpose—formed 
and heat-treated by the most advanced meth- 
ods. Ends are properly curved to prevent hook- 
ing. Tested constantly. Finished off with a coat 
of nickel, then a heavy plate of copper, and on 
top of that a heavy nickel coat. That’s why 
the WEED finish /asts. 


WEED attachments are extra strong. Further- 
more, they fit, stay put, and don’t rattle loose. 
No running in for replacements after every 
little bump. WEED attachments place WEED 
Bumpers and Fender Guards at the correct 
height to meet, not interlock, with others. 


Great bumpers—be sure to tell the man you 
want WEEDS. He has them or easily can get 
them for you. 


AMERICAN CHAIN COMPANY, Inc. 
BRIDGEPORT, CONNECTICUT 
In Canada: Dominion Chain Co., Limited, Niagara Falls, Ont. 
District Sales Offices: Boston, Chicago, New York, Philadelphia, 
Pittsburgh, San Francisco 


Makers of WEED Chains and WEED Levelizers 


Sensible protection—fore and aft 


EVENING POST 


(Continued from Page 54 

prosper in order that it may serve ade- 
quately, and at the same time safeguard the 
national economic security; the respon- 
sibility to labor to see that the productive 
efforts of individual workmen are com- 
pensated for by adequate wages; the 
responsibility to capital to see that an 
adequate return is made on the money in- 
vested, offer no mean task. To accomplish 
all this with coincidences is even more 
difficult. 

“Tf the policy of securing the first reduc- 
tion in cost through reduction in wage had 
been adopted, if the policy of basing the 
sales price on the cost of the product, with- 
out regard as to how that cost was obtained, 
had been followed, the constantly increas- 
ing purchasing power which has made 
possible the vast consumption of our prod- 
ucts would not have resulted. Increasing 
purchasing power has made possible in- 
creasing production, with lowering costs 
and orderly deflation. 

‘The problems confronting management 
have required great resourcefulness. The 
development of our national resources no 
longer offered a field of opportunity. 
Thought and energy were given to the ex- 
pansion and the better operation of old 
industries and the development of new 
ones. The radio industry began but five 
years ago. Today the value of equipment- 
manufacturing business is twice the value 


| of our rug-and-carpet business and nearly 


three-quarters as great as the jewelry busi- 
ness of the country. We are spending 


| $1,000,000 a day on radio sets and parts. 


The automobile industry has reached new 
peaks of production, and the constantly 
lowering costs of the product to the public 
and the volume of sales have brought the 
industry to the head of the list of manufac- 
tures in the United States. 

‘Problems of production have been met, 
with amazing results. As a muscular proc- 
ess, labor does not differ in effectiveness, 
whether in England, China or the United 
States. Coupled, however, with tremen- 
dous development of primary horse power 
per workman, discarding good machinery 


| for better, the opportunity for the individ- 
| ual workman to earn in proportion to pro- 


duction, the expenditure of vast sums for 


| technical education, scientific research and 


experimentation, all increase the effective 
use of labor enormously. With all the in- 
creased effectiveness there has come a 
higher standard of living, a general reduc- 
tion of working hours, and a decrease of 
unemployment. The mutual satisfaction 
of management and labor has brought about 
a feeling of partnership in the responsibili- 
ties confronting industry.” 


Problems Still to be Met 


“Somewhere in each industry we reach a 
point where the effectiveness of further in- 
creased production no longer expresses itself 
in benefits, but success in meeting the prob- 
lems of production encourages us to meet 
with energy and determination other prob- 
lems which confront management and 
which will make for further progress. Among 
many problems, that of distribution is now 
engaging our best thought. In its solution 
we may find one of the means of either 
maintaining or even improving our present 
prosperity. 

‘‘Wise management has been an impor- 
tant contributory cause to our present 
prosperity. We have been witnessing a 
change in the control of industry from in- 
dividual ownership to corporate owner- 
ship, and from large individual holdings in 
corporate ownership to diversified holdings. 


| With more than 15,000,000 stockholders in 
| our corporations, and the number increas- 


ing daily, we are reaching a position where 
demagogic interference with business prog- 
ress will be frowned on. Good management 
will not be interfered with. Public confi- 
dence will be maintained by fair dealing. 
Management may concentrate its energy 
on constructive programs. Prosperity must 
follow in an industrial nation rich in natural 
resources, agricultural wealth, and having 


August 14,1926 


as a basic policy the encouragement of 
private initiative.” 

With efficient management must be 
linked power, the growth of which has been 
one of the outstanding events in our ma- 
terial advance. No man in the United 
States is better qualified to speak of this 
phase than Samuel Insull, president of the 
Commonwealth Edison Company of Chi- 
cago, and many other large public-utility 
enterprises. He is not only a power in 
power but a keen and balanced observer, as 
this interview with him shows: 

“Since Adam Smith, economists gener- 
ally agree that labor is the basis of wealth, 
using the terms labor and wealth in the 
broadest economic sense. If that 
whatever tends to increase the productive 
capacity of labor also contributes directly 
to increasing the available supply of wealth. 

““Capital, the dictionary says, is ‘wealth 
employed in or available for production; 
the aggregate of the products of industry 
directly available for the support of human 
existence, or for promoting additional pro- 
duction.’ 

“It follows that as wealth is increased, 
capital is increased; as capital is increased, 
under normal conditions, productive ac- 
tivities should increase, and consequently 
general prosperity, if other conditions are 
normal, should increase.” 


1s so, 


Labor and Time Saved 


“Prosperity is best promoted, therefore, 
by encouraging the influences that make for 
increased wealth. Evidence of it has multi- 
plied year by year since Watt perfected his 
steam engine, and Arkwright his spinning 
jenny in 1769. As labor-saving devices 
have been developed and used—by peoples 
and nations, and even by groups or drafts 
prosperity has increased. 

“Take, for example, the public-utility 
services, with some of which I happen to be 
engaged. These services are better in this 
country than anywhere else on earth, largely 
because there has been less restriction here 
upon the private initiative and enterprise 
applied to their development. They have, 
in turn, contributed greatly to general 
prosperity, because they have so greatly 
saved labor and time and so have increased 
our productive capacity. 

“This labor-saving and time-saving run 
through every detail of American life; ease 
and speed of communication multiplied by 
the telephone; getting about in cities facili- 
tated by electric transportation; 
time and labor saved in the home by a 
multitude of devices, from the oven regula- 
tor on the gas range to the vacuum cleaner, 
laundry equipment and automatic gas-fired 
house heating; personal efficiency and pro- 
ductive capacity increased by electric light- 
ing and multiplied by electric power. 

“The economic effect of all this, as re- 
flected in our general prosperity and high 
standard of living, is recognized especially 
by observers from abroad. It was em- 
phasized in a signed article some months 
ago by Lord Rothermere, publisher of the 
London Daily Mail. He found that our 
national efficiency and the resultant high 
standard of living were largely due to our 
abundant supply of economical power. The 
same conclusion is stressed by the repre- 
sentatives of the English labor unions who 
toured this country as investigators of con- 
ditions in their respective trades. 

“Contributions of this class to general 
American prosperity are only in their be- 
ginnings, provided development of them is 
not discouraged. Superpower is an exam- 
ple. 

“The effect of superpower—which means 
the interconnection of electrical generating 
and distributing systems—is to extend the 
economic advantages of power over wide 
areas and to insure continuity of supply. 
It is giving high-grade metropolitan electric 
service to villages, hamlets and farms. It is 
increasing the economically available sup- 
ply of power and light, and thus increasing 
productive capacity. The consequence of 
this one develcoment alone, if permitted 


steps, 


Continued on Page 58) 

















L 


MOTOR §S 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 








Fisher has always insisted upon 
building enduring fine quality in- 
to its bodies —a fact well illus- 
trated by the use of genuine 
polished plate glass in all en- 
closed bodies bearing its symbol. 


It assures itself of an adequate 
supply ot plate glass at lowest 
possible cost through the owner 
ship of one of the largest plate 
glass companies in the world, 
with an annual production in 
excess of thirty million squar¢ 
feet a year. 


Because of this, Fisher has never, 
either through shortage or 
through price, been forced to 
sacrifice safety by the use of plate 


glass substitutes. 














BODY 
by 


FISHER 










































THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


What do you see 
in this picture’ 


It 1s an unretouched photograph 
taken from a motor-car 


Here is irrefutable evidence of how a certain 
kind of glass plays tricks with your eyes. The 
left doorway of the car is glazed with this glass 

just common sheet glass such as you find on 
some cars. Note the strangely distorted house, 
its wobbly pillars and bulging walls. The house 
is not really like that. The distortions are 
caused by the waves and irregularities in the 


glass. 


Now, look through the windshield. And 
how do you see? You see normally, as if there 
were nothing at all between your eyes and the 
That is because the windshield is Plate 
Glass. Plate Glass cannot distort your vision. 
The method of making assures a clarity impos- 


view. 


sible to attain in other glass. 
Moreover, Plate Glass is extraordinarily 
egh. At has far greater resistance to break- 
age than ordinary glass. And less breakage 
means economy in the end. Then, too, because 
Jate Glass is so obviously a quality product, it 
lends beauty and distinction to your car. Insist 
upon having Plate Glass, not only on the new 
car you buy, but for glazing when you are 
ing broken panes. Plate Glass Man- 
America, First National Bank 
ilding, Pittsburgh, Pa. 


ers of 


EMS tte ee 


Nothing Else “S 
is Like it 


a 
eat aed 


(Continued from Page 56 
to develop unhampered, is beyond imagin- 
ing.” 

The triumph of American mass produc- 
tion is of course the automobile. Despite 
the periodic appearance of the bogy of 
saturation, the industry pursues its ever- 
widening way. It has brought new impetus 
to forge and factory, and enhanced our 
prestige overseas. In scope and activity it 
is perhaps the most typical of Yankee enter- 
prises. 

What might be designated as a general 
survey of the industry in its relation to pros- 
perity was made for me by Walter P. 
Chrysler, himself a dominant figure, in this 
fashion: 

“There was a time when journalists 
rarely asked automobile manufacturers for 
their opinions about current economic con- 


| ditions, because the automotive industry 


was regarded as overdeveloped and inflated. 
Today the industry is rated by business 
men and bankers as one of the best means of 
judging the country’s economic condition, 


| because the automobile manufacturer is so 
| close to the people. The purchase of a home 


and the purchase of a motor cx are the two 
most important purchases which the aver- 
age family makes. 

‘First let us take a glance at the auto- 
motive industry itself. It ranks first in 
the country’s manufactures, having passed 
steel, meat packing and oil. Study freight- 
car loadings—a useful economic index—and 
you will see that the automotive-freight 
loadings exceed those of any other com- 
modity. Motor vehicles and parts are the 
third largest of all railroad shipments of 
manufactured articles in the United States. 


| The automotive industry has an invested 


capital of nearly $2,000,000,000. It pays 


| annually in wages and salaries more than 
| $500,000,000. Surely such an industry can 
| serve well in determining the country’s 
| present economic health and what it faces 
| tomorrow. 


“The automobile industry is enjoying 
good times for the simple reason that the 
American public has accepted individual 
motor transportation, and because the in- 
dustry today is giving far greater values 
than most other businesses. Motor cars in 
the United States cost 29 per cent less than 


| they did before the World War, while the 
| labor and materials used in manufacturing 


them cost from 60 to 70 per cent more.” 


Prosperity on Wheels 


‘“Why does prosperity for the automobile 


| industry mean prosperity for the rest of the 


country? First of all, it means employment 
at high wages, directly and indirectly, to 
nearly 3,500,000 people. Second, it means 


| good business for the iron, steel, plate glass, 


upholstery, leather, rubber, lumber, alu- 


| minum, copper, tin, lead, zinc, nickel, paint, 
| oil and varnish industries. Third, it means 


good business for road building, which I 


| believe is the largest of all construction in- 
| dustries. Fourth, nearly 5,000,000 of the 
| registered motor cars in the United States 


are on farms. Improve the farmer’s means 
of transportation and you help him eco- 
nomically. Fifth, the automobile has made 
possible suburban developments which have 


' added tremendously to real-estate values. 


‘““When an automobile manufacturer sur- 


| yeys markets to get better ideas about fu- 


ture demands, he first takes a glance at 
bank clearings. Bank clearings today indi- 
cate that the banks are handling a iarger 
volume of business than ever since the war. 
He takes a look at freight-car loadings. 
These are high today. He studies figures 
about building. Today he finds that build- 
ing activities in most parts of the United 
States are very great. He studies em- 
ployment conditions. There is very little 
unemployment. He studies bank figures. 
Savings-banks deposits have set a new 
record. Hestudies insurance figures. Insur- 
ance companies are writing more insurance 
than ever before. 

“There are those who complain that the 
American people are willing to give up 
things in order to own a motor car and that 


August 14,1926 


too many motor cars are not good for the 
country. With that view I emphatically 
disagree, not because I am a motor-car 
manufacturer, but because I believe in the 
motor car as a creator of economic wealth. 

“Tell me the number of inhabitants a 
country has and the number of registered 
motor cars in that country, and I will tell 
you something of the comforts and con- 
veniences which the average family in that 
country are enjoying. Tell me to what ex- 
tent a country has developed its means of 
transportation and communication, and I 
can tell fairly accurately how far that 
country has progressed economically and 
socially. 

“There is a direct relationship between 
America’s economic prosperity and the 
number of motor vehicles registered in the 
United States. It is impossible to think of 
the automotive industry as separate and 
distinct, having no relationship with other 
industries. 

“What is responsible for the gigantic 
petroleum industry we have in America? 
The motor car. When Americans send 
motor cars to the hundred-odd countries 
of the world they are shipping creators of 
economic wealth.” 


Postponing the Rainy Day 


“There are also those who complain that 
the automotive industry has set the pace 
for deferred-payment buying and that 
people are mortgaging their future incomes 
to too great extent. The deferred-payment 
plan can be abused just like anything else, 
but as practiced by the automotive industry 
it offers no dangers. The practice of the 
industry is to require 33!4 per cent cash- 
down payment on new cars, and 40 per 
cent on used cars. The balance is paid in 
twelve equal monthly payments. Seventy- 
five per cent of all automobiles purchased 
in the United States are purchased accord- 
ing tosuch a plan. The average note given 
at time of purchase of new cars is $528 and 
on used cars $280. Paper outstanding on 
new motor vehicles last year totaled 
$972,000,000. That is a lot of money, but 
let it be recalled right here that time- 
payment losses last year were less than one- 
fifth of 1 per cent. As the amount of time 
in which to make payments is increased the 
percentage of losses increases. The auto- 
motive industry knows that. 

“Credit is the basis of American busi- 
ness. Without credit there would be little 
business. Selling automobiles on the 
deferred-payment plan is nothing more or 
less than the utilization of credit. The 
point is that the extension of credit must be 
on a sound basis, and upon such a basis is 
the extension of automobile credit. 

“As I attempt to analyze the outlook I 
find only one thing that is disturbing. 
Much has been said and printed about the 
temporary character of the country’s 
prosperity. We have been told over and 
over again that the first six months of 1926 
would be very good and that the second 
six months would not be so good. There 
may be good reasons for such opinions— I 
do not know what they are—but I do know 
that when people begin to think that times 
are going to get worse an atmosphere of 
pessimism is created and that atmosphere 
has its influence. No automobile manu- 
facturer can afford to deceive himself. He 
cannot tell himself that times are going 
to continue to be good, and he cannot go 
ahead with large production schedules if 
times are going to change. 

“T have implicit confidence in the sane- 
ness of the American business man. He 
has gone through all kinds of experiences. 
He builds for the rainy day and then pro- 
vides for the postponement of that day. 

“Times are good and they are going to 
continue to be good. We have no tangible 
justification for pessimism. Not everyone 
is satisfied with the volume or the profitable- 
ness of his business, but some of these 
complaints have to be discounted, as it has 
been shown time and time again that even 
in the best of years there is always someone 

Continued on Page 60 











THE 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 











N(, 


OAKLAND 


presents the 


PONTIAC S 
Landau Sedan 


A masterly combination of style, stamina 
and thrift An ultra-smart Body by 
Fisher, finished ir Sedge Green Duco - - - 
The spectacular power, speed and endurance 
that have established the Pontiac Six as the 
outstanding triumph of automotive history 
- + Anda price that could only be achieved 
by an organization enjoying the advan- 


, 
to $1295. All prices at factory. Easy 


OAKLAND MOTOR CAR COMPANY, PONTIAC, 


Six Sedan or Coupe, $825. Oakla 


, 
1d 


yf 


tages of General Motors’ gigantic pur- 
chasing power In short, Oakland’s 
answer to the demand for a low-cost 
enclosed six, combining the utmost 
in distinguished appearance and appoint- 
ments with that quality construction 
which is now recognized as the out- 
standing characteristic of the Pontiac Six. 
General Mators Time Payment Plan 

MICHIGAN 


Six, comf ta Pont 


. Upholstery 


Equipment items 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 











Because a pipe “bites” is 
no sign it’s teething! 


Ir May BE a crying shame the way your 
pipe “bites;” but there’s no use sitting 
up nights nursing him as though he were 
sprouting teeth... He's not teething! 
Chances are it’s a slight touch of “tobac- 
colic”... his tobacco probably disagrees 
with him. 

Now there’s a remedy for this “pipe- 
bite” that’s recommended by all Doctors of 
Pipeology. It’s a sure-cure for every kind 
of pipe ailment. It is Granger Rough Cut 


. a perfect pipe panacea! 


Pipes cry for it... for there’s not a bit 
of bite or burn in a billion bowlfuls of 
Granger... It’s such ripe old Burley 
tobacco... so perfectly mellowed. Mel- 
lowed as no other tobacco can be, for 
Granger owns exclusive rights to Wellman’s 
good old-fashioned “ Mellowing Secret”. 


Then, Granger is rough cut (cut in 
large, slow-burning flakes). It smokes cooler 
than finely cut tobaccos—several degrees 
cooler... Cool, mellow and mild, Granger 
agrees with any pipe. And all pipes agree 
there's no other tobacco like it. Not on this 
planet, anyway! 


~GRANGER 


for pipes only! 


ugh Cut is made by the Liggett & Myers Tobacco Company 











A ee 











(Continued from Page 58) 
who either is not, or thinks he is not, getting 
as much business as the rest. 
“The way in which the Florida boom 
flattened out without serious consequences 


| is a reassuring demonstration of the in- 
| fluence of any easy-credit situation in 


facilitating orderly liquidation. 

“Despite the handicap of a backward 
spring and the sagging tendency of com- 
modity prices during most of the period, 
the volume of checks drawn in payment for 
goods, and freight carried by the railroads, 
has continued to exceed that of any previous 
year. Demand for labor is the most active 
since 1923. 

“We are constantly having changing 


| currents in business. The business man with 


discernment who adapts himself to them 
prospers, while he who gets into the eddy 
does not.” 

The earlier vicissitudes of motor-car pro- 
duction were largely born of lack of syn- 
chronization with consumption. During 
the last few years, however, scientific 
stabilizing influences have been in opera- 
tion, and they have fortified the industry 
against setbacks. Since the automobile 
is an index to general prosperity and 
touches 80 per cent of all the people every 
day, the effect has been far-reaching. 

No producers have achieved this stabili- 
zation toa greater extent than the General 
Motors Corporation, which, in diversity of 
product and volume of sales, is the biggest 
motor organization in the world. Just how 
its system operates was explained to me by 
Alfred P. Sloan, Jr., president of the cor- 
poration. He said: 

“Entirely aside from the basic economic 
advantages that this country enjoys’ and 
the peculiar psychology of its people, there 
is another phase which, if more thoroughly 
appreciated, is capable of contributing 
much toward prosperity. This factor deals 
with the stabilization of the country’s 


| business activity. 


“ Anything that will cause industrial ac- 


| tivity to proceed along a straight line, 


moving in harmony with growth in popula- 
tion and wealth, is much to be desired. 
Though it is generally recognized that the 
difference in total volume of business be- 
tween what we term good times and bad 
is a relatively small proportion of the total, 
still a stabilizing influence that affects even 
a part of this difference would be an impor- 
tant contribution to the larger welfare.” 


Stabilizing Influences 


“Many stabilizing influences have de- 
veloped during the past few years. Im- 
portant among them is the Federal Reserve 
System. Given a satisfactory financial 
system, the next important factor in the 
stabilization of industry seems to me to be 
the reduction of what I might term the 
float—that is, the amount of merchandise 
that is absorbed in the various channels of 
distribution from the primary sources of 
production to the points of final consu: *p- 
tion. 

“Were it possible for production, whether 
of the manufacturer or of the farmer, to be 
exactly synchronized with consumption, 
and given the most efficient possible system 
of distribution from one to the other 
which means a minimum amount of mer- 
chandise in the float—the demands on our 
financial resources would not only be re- 
duced, but a fundamental contribution 
would be made to the stabilization of our 
industrial conditions and to the mainte- 
nance of prosperity throughout the nation. 

“The highly efficient manner in which 
our railroads are now being operated has 
contributed greatly to reducing the float. 
This brings the consumer closer to the 
producer. 

“ As a result of the disastrous experience 
of merchants and manufacturers caught 
with large inventories following the war, 
there has been a natural and sound trend 
on the part of all the agents of distribution 
to work closer than ever before to the con- 
sumer demand. It has a tremendous in- 
fluence in reducing the float. 


August 14,1926 


“The economics of this whole cycle of 
operation has been a subject of intense 
study by General Motors Corporation, 
with whose operations I am, of course, in 
intimate contact. I think I can perhaps 
illustrate what I mean by stabilization of 
business as a factor contributing to the 
prosperity of our people by outlining briefly 
what has been experienced and accom- 
plished in this direction. 

“Before attempting an explanation it 
might first be pointed out that the auto- 
motive industry is the largest in point of 
volume of any industry in the United 
States. It is much more important than 
this statement implies. This results from 
the great diversity of materials necessary 
to make the complete vehicle—a fact that 
can hardly be appreciated unless an in- 
tensive study of the detailed component 
parts of the modern motor car, truck or bus 
is made. Every motor-car manufacturer 
gives employment on the production side 
to a large number of direct workers. In ad- 
dition, he purchases from tens of thousands 
of independent suppliers, who, in turn, em- 
ploy in the aggregate many workers. 

“As a matter of fact, there are very few 
communities of any consequence in the 
manufacturingsections of the country whose 
prosperity is not directly influenced by the 
activity of the motor-car industry. Conse- 
quently anything that serves to stabilize 
the automotive industry will have an ap- 
preciable effect on the stabilization of in- 
dustry in general, not only directly but from 
the cumulative standpoint.” 


Remedying Overproduction 


“‘The automotive industry, up to the last 
two or three years, did not follow the 
usual cycle of industrial activity, due to 
the fact that through practically its entire 
history up to that point the limiting factor 
had been production rather than distribu- 
tion. The industry had not reached the 
stabilization stage, but was increasing at 
such a rate that even in periods of reduced 
industrial activity the demand still ex- 
ceeded the supply. The year 1923 was the 
best, up to that time, the industry had 
ever had. Production was speeded up to 
the utmost and plant capacity and dealers’ 
stocks were built up in anticipation of a 
still further accelerated demand in the 
spring of 1924. 

“Because of a falling off in general in- 
dustry, unseasonable weather, and failure 
to attain a state of stabilization, there re- 
sulted overproduction. An adjustment had 
to take place, and a curtailment in produc- 
tion followed. Workmen were laid off, 
schedules to suppliers were either canceled 
or materially reduced, and the buying 
power of the enormous number of workers 
directly and indirectly dependent upon the 
industry both on the production and mer- 
chandising side shrank. The industry had 
apparently reached the point where, in the 
future, it had to conform more closely to 
the cycles of business activity to which all 
other industries were subject. 

“As a result of all this we felt that a 
better system could be evolved, and pro- 
ceeded to work out a plan, the broad under- 
lying principle of which was a more direct 
relationship between the corporation as the 
producer and the public as the consumer. 

““A study was first made to determine 
each month’s quota of cars as a part of 
the total year’s retail or actual consump- 
tion. It was found that twice the average 
were sold at retail in April, and three 
times as many as in December. Further, 
each month appeared to have a fairly con- 
sistent proportion. Manifestly it would be 
impossible te produce each month the ex- 
act number that was needed for that par- 
ticular month. Such a procedure would 
have required on the part of both manu- 
facturers and suppliers plant equipment and 
organization sufficient at all times to fill the 
needs of the biggest month, or twice as 
much as was necessary if an average could 
be maintained. This would have necessi- 
tated unreasonable capital investment and 

Continued on Page 62 









THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Fair woman asa motorist oh 


' * when the century was : 
Whaat a shock when those ladies of the 































ha lorgnettes, returning primly from Sunday 
y service, first Saw dad woman piloting one of 
\ those snorting, jerky horseless Carriages ot 
\ the early century down the avenue. 
} b 
rt And yet today—less than a generation later 


—mother and daughter flip a coin to deter 
mine who shall have the car. 

\ A ““New Day” has indeed dawned! But 
greater far than the change that has come to 
pass in woman’s attitude toward motor cars, 
has been the change in cars themselves. | 














Milady of today loves things mechanical © —=—= —— 
no whit more than her grandmother did. 
But thanks to the tremendous engineering 
strides made during the past decade she 
need know nothing of mechanical things. 


greater roominess, comfort and smartness. 
Long years ago, Paige- Jewett engineers 
foresaw the coming of this “*‘New Day” 
and set about designing a car that would 
Anpb WitH Tuis New Day Have Come master not only some—but every single one oe 
MANY New PROBLEMS of these myriad “New Day ” problems. g =. 
The woman of today is concerned, how- How natural, therefore, 
ever—vitally concerned—with the problems that in the latest Paige and 
and difficulties of an entirely new set of Jewett Sixes you find the fullest embodiment 





motoring conditions—of crowded trafic of ““New Day’ engineering. You find 
of starting, stopping and turning with quick- cars that respond eagerly to your lightest 
ness and ease—of obtaining maximum safety touch—cars that flash instantly ahead Assets of $20,000,000 


always—of comfort and roominess with- when the traffic tower signals “go’’—that 
out excessive bulk—of performance that come to cushioned rest the instant you touch Worldwide Dealer 
matches her every mood and their Paige-hydraulic 4-wheel brakes Organization 

beauty that matches her mode. powerful cars, smart and distinctive cars. 






One of the Newest and 


To serve the modern woman ; 
. * % J 44. »c 2 » Z 
satisfactorily (and Cs ad A New Day Car Is Wartinc For You Finest Plants in the 


too!) today’s car must pos- To Take Its WHEEL Industry 

sess an entirely new nim- You women who enjoy the thrill of driv- 17 Years Under O 

m bleness, a new ease of ing have waiting pleasant surprises in abun- oe ewer rw 

handling and driving, dance the moment you take the wheel of a 
new economy, new new Paige or Jewett. Without obligation— Cars Exclusively 

endurance, ask your dealer to bring one to your door. 












Management Building Fine 







Never Reorganized— 
Never Refinanced 










Sets ~~ —— 


Pp IGE & J EWETT SLXES 
New-Day Cars for New-Day Deeds 






THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


he dive to a Linoleum 
oor makes it comfortable 
and qu iet | 








Office of Brown, Crosby and Company, 
New York City, showing its smooth, 
resilient floor of Blabon’s Linoleum. 


| } 
te 
= = 
=, TAs mt . 
Dip nal ie : 7 i 
Cross-section illustrating the 


resiliency of a Blabon floor 
of Linoleum. 


Hard, unyielding floors jar the nerves at 
every step, and are:soon tiring. 

Elasticity in a floor absorbs shocks, and re- 
duces the strain on the nerves and feet. 

That’s the beauty of Blabon floors of Lino- 
leum. Because they are made of ground cork 
and oxidized linseed oil, they have a smooth 
resilient surface. Socomfortable to walk upon! 

Blabon floors are quiet, too—without noise 
from moving feet or chairs to disturb;—so 
essential in a busy office! 

Blabon floors of Plain or Inlaid Linoleum 
are tough and wear-resisting. Their soft color- 
ings and refined patterns go clear through to 
the burlap back, and last as long as the 
linoleum itself. 

Because they are easy to clean, and never 
need expensive refinishing, Blabon floors are 
economical to maintain. 

The modern method of cementing linoleum 
down over builders’ deadening felt insures 
watertight seams which are practically invisi- 
ble, and adds much to the beauty and per- 
manency of a Blabon floor. 

Ask for Blabon’s Linoleum by name. It is sold 
by home-furnishing and department stores. 

Write our Advisory Bureau of Interior Dec- 
oration for suggestions without cost to you. 
Our illustrated booklet, “The Floor for the 
Modern Home,” sent free, upon request. 


The George W. Blabon Company 
Nicetown, Philadelphia 


Established 75 years 


When you visit the Ses 
qui-Centennial Interna- 
tional Exposition at 
Philadelphia, see the 
displays of Blabon’s 
Linoleum at these 
locations: The Blabon 
Exhibit in the Palace of 
Liberal Arts and Manu 
factures; The Wall Paper 
House in the Palace of 
Liberal Arts and Manu 
factures; The Shippen 
House on High Street 
(Good Housekeeping's 


Model Home). 








Hazel H. Adler, author 
of books on interior 
decoration, gives valu- 
able suggestions on har- 
monizing furniture and 
draperies with walls and 
floors, in our 36-page 
book, “Planning the 
Color Schemes for Your 
Home,’’ beautifully 
iDustrated in full color. 
Sent anywhere in the 
United States upon 
receipt of 20 cents 





(Continued from Page 60) 
resulted in lower efficiency in operation, 
due to the building up and tearing down 
of production schedules in following the 
cycle already described. Further, it would 
have affected the quality of the product 
and been a source of great dissatisfaction. 
A compromise on a scientific basis that 
would equalize these factors to the largest 
possible degree and inject the greatest 
efficiency into the whole cycle without un- 
duly burdening anyone was _ necessarily 
the answer. 

“General Motors’ procedure provides 
that at the beginning of each manufacturing 
year an estimate be made as to the probable 
retail-sales demand for each and every 
product that is manufactured within the 
corporation for the following year. Many 


| factors contribute to the estimate, and the 


best judgment is exercised in weighing 
them. Next a compromise is established 
between production and consumption as 
measured by actual retail sales, to the end 
that the fluctuations of production will be 
limited as much as possible without over- 
burdening the dealer organizations. The 
result gives a monthly production quota 


which, in the aggregate, must equal the 


BLABONS 


Linoleum 


estimated yearly retail sales, with a reason- 
able working stock always on hand. 

“Not only are General Motors’ factories 
scheduled on the basis of this program but, 
through its various purchasing depart- 
ments, the factories of its tens of thousands 
of suppliers as well. As a rough estimate I 
should say that more than 250,000 direct 
workers are involved in these various trans- 
actions. If the estimate of retail sales for 
the year is correct, no changes need be 
made. This, of course, is unlikely, al- 
though experience has shown that it is 
possible to estimate very accurately. It is 
necessary, therefore, to keep actual experi- 
ence in harmony with the year’s estimate 
as the year progresses. 

“To effect this, reports are required from 
more than 20,000 dealers three times every 
month. These reports give certain statistical 
information, such as the number of retail 
sales actually made, the number of cars on 
hand, and other factors, all of which supply 
the necessary information for consideration 
at the end of each month as to whether any 
adjustment is necessary. One month’s ex- 
perience does not necessarily justify any 
correction in the program. A_ second 
month’s indication of a similar trend might 
warrant a moderate increase or decrease of 
the fundamental index of consumption for 
the year. This would reflect a moderate in- 
crease or decrease in the schedule of the 
particular product involved.” 


Month:-by:Month Scheduling 


“Thus month-by-month adjustments are 
effected and the production schedule of our 
institution is synchronized with actual con- 
sumption. Since it has such direct contact 
with its retail outlets, the automotive in- 
dustry can accomplish more in the direction 
of reducing the float than any other big 
activity. A wide adoption of the system 
means a further antidote against industrial 
depression.” 

Two contributory factors to our pros- 
perity—the motion picture and the radio— 
deserve a place in this symposium, because 
they make for the contentment which keeps 
the channels of production open, and also 
help to pile up volume of output. First let 
us get the point of view of the movie 
magnate as given to me by Adolph Zukor, 
president of the Famous Players-Lasky 
Corporation: 

“Prosperity in the United States will 
continue because our economic life is based 
on the sound principles of democracy. Even 
the poorest man has an opportunity to 
forge ahead to the richest rewards, and this 
is as true today as it was in the days of 
Lincoln, our so-called intelligentzia to the 
contrary notwithstanding. 

“Moreover, in America, more than any- 
where else in the world, business and in- 
dustry are carried forward on the doctrine 
that the laborer is worthy of his hire. Thus, 


August 14,1926 


our wages are far and away the highest in 
the world. If high wages have increased 
costs of production, they also have increased 
the outlet for our products. It is no acci- 
dent of our national temperament that the 
scale of living in this country is higher than 
anywhere else in the world. Americans 
make more money, and therefore are in a 
position to spend more money. If, in 
spending money, they occasionally go 
broke, they are not faced with the horrible 
specter of want and misery for the balance 
of their lives, for they know there are plenty 
of opportunities to come back again. 
“The motion-picture industry takes pride 
in the fact that its business is doing its 
share in prosperity. Basically, of course, 
we have increased the purchasing power of 
the people by giving them theatrical enter- 
tainment at a cheap box-office price. Today, 
in America, there is no excuse for anybody 
to forgo entertainment on the score of ex- 
pense, as the motion picture has brought 
the finest stories and plays by the foremost 
authors into the smallest hamlets at a cost 
which puts these productions within the 
reach of everyone. The motion picture, by 
its duplication of prints from the same neg- 
ative, represents the genius of America for 
quantity production at low cost.” 


Magnets That Draw the Crowd 


“The films are contributing to our pros- 
perity in other ways that are just beginning 
to be appreciated. For instance, photo- 
plays have had an enormous influence in 
the distribution of American clothing, 
household furnishings, and other living ac- 
eessories. This influence of the American 
motion picture is universal in its nature. 

“The picture theater likewise is doing its 
share toward promoting business. Aside 
from increasing the surrounding realty 
values, the motion-picture theater has been 
proved times without number to be a trade 
magnet in the smaller towns. In many 
places in the West, merchants in towns 
without theaters have formed community 
enterprises which built and operated pic- 
ture houses because their presence insured 
trade from the surrounding territory. 

“The picture business is proving its faith 
in the continued prosperity of this country 
by embarking on the greatest expansion 
movement in the history of the industry. 
Not only are we investing large sums in the 
production of bigger pictures but all over 
the country beautiful theaters are going up 
as enduring symbols of the motion pic- 
ture’s progress and belief in the future.” 

No development of the last five years has 
been more remarkable than that of the 
radio. As Mr. O’Leary pointed out in his 
interview, the industry began only half a 
decade ago, yet we are now spending 
$1,000,000 a day on radio sets and parts. In 
the following statement by Major General 
James G. Harbord, president of the Radio 
Corporation of America, you get the effect 
of this new agency on life and prosperity: 

“When a business man is asked the 
causes that contribute to the present pros- 
perity he naturally gives some rather obvi- 
ous generalities, and only becomes concrete 
and definite when he assigns the credit to 
the activity with which he is associated. 
So many things contribute to individual 
success or failure and to national prosperity 
that the connection between cause and 
effect is sometimes obscure. 

“Our country suffered a business reverse 
in 1921, following the rush of prosperity in 
the years just preceding, and at this distance 
it now looks as though business had mis- 
calculated and overexpanded. If that is 
true, it may be depended upon that as long 
as those who graduated from the school of 
experience in the class of 1921 remain at the 
head of business establishments they will 
watch their steps and proceed cautiously 
They may not be able to hand on their 
diplomas to their successors, but they will 
not themselves forget the teachings of the 
school in which they won them. I consider 
that one of the wholesome features of the 
present prosperity. 

Continued on Page 64 
























How Gabriels Work 


When your car hits a bump, 
the car springs compress, and 
the slack in the Gabriel belt is 
taken up by expansion of the 
coil spring ““B’’. Then as the 
rebound of the car spring com- 
mences, the 442 coils “A’”’ (giv- 
ing up to 180 sq. ins. of friction 
surface) immediately tighten 
and begin to create friction on 
the brass band between them. 
This resistance increases grad- 
ually—returning the carsprings 
to their normal position with- 
out a jerk or abrupt stop. The 
result is that those in the car 
stay on the seats and are not 
bounced or jolted from them. 


Gabriel—and Only Gabriel— Is a Snubber 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Thousands of cars are equipped with 
Gabriel Snubbers by the dealers who 
sell them, before they go to their owners. 
For the simple reason that these deal: 
ers want their customers to enjoy the 
economy and greater riding comfort 
which Gabriels always bring to any ear. 


The Gabriel Snubber Manufacturing Co. 


\ Cleveland, Ohio Toronto, Canada 














64 


The spring puts 


THE SATURDAY 


(Continued from Page 62) 
“There can scarcely be a doubt that the 


| election of President Coolidge, with his 


magic into 


“YANKEE” 
No. 130-A| 


| policies of conservatism, generated the cur- 
| rent of confidence that has produced the 


prosperity we have, and in my judgment 
that prosperity is on a firmer basis than 
that which characterized the American 
business of an earlier day. 

“Improved railroad facilities, the re- 
action from the melancholy experiment of 
government management, have speeded up 
the delivery of supplies and enabled re- 
tailers to avoid the risks of overstocking. 


| Overexpansion among the multitude of re- 
| tailers, jobbers and manufacturers appears 


to be absent. Those men are not buying 


| more than they can digest commercially. 


If these things are true the present pros- 


| perity does not call for the usual warnings 


| the financial structure, 


of conservative counsel. 

“The Federal Reserve banks have ex- 
ercised a healthy restraining influence upon 
which has now 
proved itself a workable, flexible and sound 
facility. The morale of the country has 
been steadily improving. I doubt whether 


| there has ever been a period during which 
| prosperity has been shared so equitably.” 


—— 


Radio’s Place in the Home 


“*While the advent of radio can be trans- 
lated into terms of increased commerce, in- 


| creased employment and increased pros- 


UST PUSH! The spring 

in handle and ‘‘Yankee’’ | 
Spiral do the work for you 
—and save your time. 


Without loss of a sec- 
the spring brings 
handle back ready for the | 
next push. 


ond, 


And the tension keeps 
blade in screw-slot, leav- 
ing one hand free to hold 
work. 

One handed, you can 
quickly drive (or draw) 
screws in the most difficult 
places with this ‘“Yankee’’ 
Quick-Return Spiral 
Ratchet Screw-driver No. 
130-A. 

Right-hand Ratchet, 
Left-hand Ratchet and 


Rigid. Three sizes of bits. 


No. 130-A. Standard size 


No. 131-A. Heavy pattern | 


No. 135. — Light pattern 


“Yankee’’ Spiral Ratchet 
drivers, without the Quick-Return fea- 
ture, No. 30-A, No. 31-A, No. 35. 
Write for FREE **Yankee”’ Tool Book 
**Vankee”’ 

Ratchet Bit Braces, 
Ratchet Breast, Hand, Chain and Be nch 
Drills. Automatic Push Drills. Plain 
Ratchet Tap-wrenches. 
Ete. 


Shows how 
work easier: 


Screw-drivers. 
V ise S—-—Tremoy able base. 
Dealers Everywhere 
Sell ** Yankee’ 
Tools 
**Yankee"’ on the 
tool you buy means 
utmost in quality, 
efficiency and dura- 
bility. 


NorTH Bros , Philadelphia; U.S. A. 


“YANKEE” 
TOOLS 


Make Belliv Mechanica 


Mra 


Screw- | 


Tools make | 


perity, its greatest contribution to the 
present wholesome state of the nation lies 
in its substantial influence toward content- 
ment in the home. Radio is forging closer 
family ties. Boys are coming in from the 
streets. There is more dancing inside and 
less outside. Sermons are shorter, but they 
are traveling faster and farther, and are 


| reaching the remote places. 


“To a certain extent prosperity is a state 
of mind. The agricultural sections of our 
country, even more than the cities, have 
been benefited by the social influence of 
radio. More and more this translates itself 


EVENING POST 


into economic advantage for the farmer and 
for the nation as a whole. Radio is short- 
ening distances and abolishing misunder- 
standings. As this process continues, the 
prosperity which comes to cities first will 
reach the farming sections more quickly.” 

One of our biggest national assets and a 
factor in our economic well-being is the 
sane and intelligent attitude of organized 
labor toward dislocation. Let William 
Green, president of the American Federa- 
tion of Labor, voice the sentiment of his 
colleagues: 

‘Tn its attitude toward the general strike 
the American Federation of Labor dis- 
closes how distinctively American our 
labor movement is. 

“One of the distinguishing features of 
America is the reward attached to ability 
to achieve. There has been, and still is, 
opportunity for the competent to move 
steadily upward. There is an essential 
democracy in American relations that con- 
ceives of no permanent barriers between 
various social groups with irreconcilable 
group interests. Basic in labor’s creed is 
the conception that progress for social 
groups involves reciprocal forces and that 
sustained betterment for any one group 
exerts a lifting pull on all the others. So 
we have an American standard of wages to 
provide an American standard of living 
made possible by an American standard of 
efficiency, and maintaining a purchasing 
demand which absorbs American quantity 
production. 

“‘American labor believes that progress 
comes from sustained constructive build- 
ing, and that the conference room is the 
surest road to wise decisions on labor re- 
lations. 

“We hold that the interests of all con- 
cerned with production are interdependent, 
though not identical, and that as a pre- 
requisite to orderly progress each functional 
group should organize upon a voluntary 
basis in order to make its contribution to 
the joint undertaking with comprehensive 
understanding of the needs and potential 


August 14,1926 


service represented. Joint conference 
gradually builds up a body of customs, 
understanding of the needs and potential 
industrial regulations. Conferences on 
mutual problems thus develop understand- 
ing, methods, decisions, and a whole system 
that moves steadily forward. New peaks 
in progress are crystallized in collective 
agreements which constitute part of the 
organization of industry. A strike within 
the industry is for the purpose of promoting 
collective bargaining. 

“The policies of organized labor, the 
technic of labor’s relations which it has 
helped to develop, are part of our industrial 
structure and part of our social structure.” 


Labor’s Policy 


“American labor has its ideals, which it 
believes can best be realized by substantial 
additions to those things which will open 
the way to greater opportunities. The 
method by which these gains are made is 
the collective agreement. This method is 
the reverse of the general strike, which 
violates contracts and destroys relationship 
upon which collective bargaining is based. 

‘“When the workers of all industries lay 
down their tools and go on general strike, 
the effect of that action is not to strengthen 
the cause of the workers who could not get 
an equitable working agreement for their 
industry, or to further collective civilized 
life. The general strike is a revolt against 
the nation and can be justified only when 
revolution is justified. 

“The general strike has no place in the 
plans or the policies of the American labor 
movement. We place our faith in educa- 
tional methods, and seek betterment 
through constructive policies that enable 
us successively to raise standards of life and 
work and to realize larger possibilities for 
each succeeding generation.” 


Editor’s Note—This is the second of a series of 
articles by Mr. Marcosson dealing with the con 
tributory causes of our prosperity. The next and 
last will appear in an early issue. 





‘s “Ta ns 





XD rans 


1441,% my) / “4 
| = SUES? 


Vg 


TN 


. 


‘ba Van erst NL 


me pia 


+ aA a) A =i 


ee 


‘wz 
iad a Tt Ne § \/ i 








PHOTO, FROM EWING GALLOWAY 


Big Methods for Handling Big Industry 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Thoughts like butterflies 


flit away — sometimes 


mever to returu . ° ° 


Net them ere they pass. That lit- 
@/ tle thought of yours today may be 
y the big idea of tomorrow. 
Don’t let it get away. Don't let it 
drift unfruitful from your mind. 


Put it on Parer! 


V V v 


Success waits on the man who 
keeps in line with his thinking 
that first friend of an active brain, 


EVERSHARP 


the name is on the pencil 


Pe 
/ 


© 1926. The Wahl Company, Chicago 
The Wahl Co. Ltd., Toronto 





“J. J.,” Pax demanded, ‘‘were those 
pearls real?” 

‘How should I know?” 

“That’s what everybody says. But what 
gets me is that nobody seems to care. Not 
even Angela.” 

“You can’t tell anything about Angela. 
Set the bag aboard, Julius, and go back to 
the house.” 

She came aboard herself, glanced at the 
cozy breakfast table and said, “I could do 
with a cup of coffee if there’s any left. Had 
mine at six and I’ve been working at the 
office ever since.” 

“T’ll hot it up. There’s toast and honey. 
Why doesn’t Angela care? Is she so filthy 
rich?” 

“She shared their inheritance with Cliff, 
but he’s since made lots more for them 
both. Angela has been from childhood a 
constitutional spendthrift. Their father 
knew her failing and made Cliff conserva- 
tor. She resents that. Cliff gives her a fat 
allowance and she owes that some months 
in advance. Cliff’s generous but strict. 
Sometimes they have gorgeous rows about 
Angela’s extravagances.”’ 

“Well, she looks de juxe.”’ 

“Worse than that. She’s an economic 
paralytic or moron. When she starts on a 
spending spree there’s no holding her. I 
really don’t approve Angela, though other- 
wise she seems virtuous enough. Doesn’t 
drink much or gamble or cut up that I’ve 
heard of.” 

““Nobody would hear of it,’’ Lanty said. 

“'There’s something in that. She likes 
you two, but that’s nothing to be ashamed 
of. Angela’s strong in her favors and dis- 
favors. You made a hit with your trustee, 
Pax.” 

“Nasty brute,’”’ Pax commented from 
the stove. ‘Mother scarcely laid to rest 
and now. he’s trying to shove back the clock 
to my age. Those pale eyes of his make me 
shiver. If I were with him long I’d poke 
"em out.” 

*‘Not so easy. It would be like trying to 
poke out the eyes of a dead fish. Ever do 
that when you were a little nipper?”’ 

“Yes, Allkidsdo. They roll. I’ll bet he 
swiped the pearls, partly for spite, partly to 
make up the deficit due us.”’ 

“Shut up,” Lanty growled. 

“There he goes again. Twining had the 
cheek to ask us to visit him, and he had 
the more disgusting cheek to tell me that 
mother had endowed me with her fullest 
gifts of charm and beauty besides what I 
already had of my own.” 

“What did you hit him with?” 

‘“My native wit. Told him that father 
had endowed me with his strong prejudices 
besides such as I might form for myself.” 

‘A proper meat ax,” J. J. said approv- 
ingly. ‘Let's go and see how far we get 
before we’re overhauled and searched.” 

A small freckled messenger boy came 
walking down the wharf. At sight of J. J. 
in the cockpit his eyes lightened. 

“Bin huntin’ the taown over fur you-all, 
Miss Jasmine. Tellygram.” 

J.J. took the slip and signed it, handing 
the messenger boy a quarter. ‘“‘Good scout, 
Reddy.” 

She ripped open the envelope, then 
handed it to Lanty, who read aloud: 

“Runabout car owned and driven by 
Roseberry Twining burst front tire and 
skidded this morning two A.M. on Dixie 
Highway, this side St. Augustine. Twining 
picked up unconscious from concussion and 
evidently robbed of pocketbook and val- 
uables. Hospital pronounces condition not 
serious. Was alone in car on way from Jax 
to Palm Beach.” 

“‘Now what,” said J. J., “do you know 
about that?” 

“Precious little,”’ Lanty said, “but I can 
guess a lot.” 

“So can I,”’ eagerly, from Pax. 

“Well, guess outloud. Then I'll have to 
scoot up to the office and shoot in a story. 
That shan’t delay us long.” 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


TWIN PROPELLERS 


(Continued from Page 34 


Lanty, mindful of Cliff’s request, said 
nothing. Besides, he wanted tothink. But 
Pax was under no restraint. 

“‘Twining’s a liar. He told me after our 
first dance that he was going out to send 
away his chauffeur, as Dade would put him 
up for the night. This wire shows that he 
had no chauffeur and that he didn’t spend 
the night with Dade. He was making off to 
put those pearls in a safe place, and he got 
bumped and some thugs, nice and handy, 
went through him before the next car came 
along. Or they might have been on a car 
right behind.” 

“You might print that version, J. 
Lanty said dryly. 

“Thanks. We've a suit or two pending 
now.” 

“Well, then, get your half of our joint 
wit busy, Lanty,” Pax said crisply. 

“J. J. would be tempted to publish my 
theory. Then Twining could bring suit and 
recover the amount of the deficit.”’ 

J. J. stepped off onto the wharf. “I'll 
stop at the yacht club on my way back and 
tell Cliff about it. Shan’t be gone long. 
About an hour.” 

‘Let me tell Cliff,” Lanty said. “‘ That'll 
save time.” 

J. J. shot him a keen look from her violet 
eyes. “I believe you’re holding out on me. 
Is time saving the only reason?” 

“No.” 

“Then gotoit. I seem tosmell a scandal 
in high life. However, Rosey makes no hit 
with me.” 

She hurried off. Lanty, who was in work 
clothes, shifted into shore ones. Pax eyed 
him suspiciously. 

“Look here, what do you know about 
this?”’ 

“Tell you when I come back. When I’ve 
seen how Angela takes this news—if I’m 
let.” 

“Angela? Why Angela?” 

‘‘Because. Last night Cliff asked me to 
keep mum. But I'll use my own discretion 
about that with you and J. J. I’m tosome 
extent a possible suspect myself.’ 

“Rot.” 

“‘Let’s hope so. Shan’t be long.” 

He went through the garage to the street, 
hailed a taxi and drove to the yacht club, 
where, on going aboard the Hyacinth, he 
found Cliff breakfasting on fruit and cereal. 
Lanty told him the news, to which Cliff lis- 
tened with a grim face. 

“T’ll tell Angela that,”’ he said and rose. 
“She’s still in bed. Just wait a minute, will 
you, Lanty?”’ And then as if reading some- 
thing in the boy’s eyes, Cliff said briefly 
though not unpleasantly, “It wouldn’t get 
you anywhere to see how she takes this bit 
of news. I doubt if it tells me anything and 
I know her pretty well.” 

Lanty waited. The steward came into 
the chart room to clear away the breakfast 
things, having seen the master go out. 

“Good morning, sir,”’ he said to Lanty. 

“Morning, steward.’’ Lanty had ob- 
served the man the night before and had 
not been favorably impressed. The man 
was of nondescript type, rather like the 
table steward of a liner, cosmopolitan, a 
mongrel of sorts. It had seemed to Lanty, 
who was accustomed to well-trained serv- 
ants, that nothing much of what went on 
round the table escaped the fellow; that 
he watched and listened even while serving 
swiftly. 

With a definite object in view, Lanty now 
saidinatoneofbarber-shop gossip: “‘ Rather 
a serious accident to one of the guests here 
aboard last night, steward. His car went 
off the road just this side St. Augustine and 
threw him out, and while he was lying 
stunned some lowbrow went through him 
for all he had on him.” 

The steward seemed to freeze for an in- 
stant. Lanty, watching him closely, de- 
tected a tremor in one hand holding the 
dishes. 

““Who was that, sir?” 

“Mr. Twining.” 


P ig 


The steward set down the bow! of cereal. 
“You say he was robbed, sir?” 

“Yes, stripped of money and whatever 
else was in his pockets.’’ 

“‘And the car wrecked?” 

Lanty did not fail to observe the focus of 
the steward’s thought, which was on a 
property rather than a personal damage. 

“IT don’t know about that.” 

“Was Mr. Twining badly injured, sir?” 

“The wire merely said he had a concus- 
sion of the brain.” 

“A wire to Mr. Hathaway, sir?” 

“No, to me. Mr. Twining was an old 
friend of my family.” 

A bell rang. The steward hurried out. 
Lanty thought the man seemed more inter- 
ested than such an episode would warrant 
in one new to his position and to whom 
Twining was a stranger. 

As he was reflecting on this the steward 
returned. ‘‘ Mrs. Kane asks would you be 
so kind as to step into her cabin, sir. This 
way, sir.” 

Lanty followed, to be ushered into a 
beautiful and spacious cabin, such as is to 
be found only on a big house boat like the 
Hyacinth. Angela, ina rose-cendrée negligee 
trimmed with lace, was sitting up in bed 
leaning back on silken pillows. Cliff was 
standing, his elbows resting on the foot- 
board of the bed. 

“‘Good morning, Lanty,” Angela said in 
her indolent voice. ‘‘So your trustee has 
gone and got himself smashed up. Now 
why should he have done that?” 

Lanty glanced at Cliff, then finding noth- 
ing there but a tacit permission to speak as 
he saw fit, answered gently: ‘‘ No doubt he 
had his reasons, Mrs. Kane.”’ 

Angela laughed. ‘ Reasons for pitching 
out on his head?”’ 

‘Reasons for being there to pitch out — 
or get pitched out.” 

Angela laughed. ‘There, you see, Cliff? 
I told you that Lanty was keen.”’ One 
round snowy arm reached to the bed table. 
She picked up her cigarette holder, the one 
she had used at dinner. It was a curious 
design, a boat hook, the staff carved in some 
fine white cabinet wood and about eighteen 
inches long. The metal head was of gold, 
the slender Russian cigarette fitting in the 


outward thrusting part used for fending © 


off. Lanty watched her in a fascinated way 
as she thrust in the cigarette. He took a 
match from the tray and offered it. 

“Thanks. Then you think that Rosey 
staged his show?” 

“‘T think that somebody staged it,”’ Lanty 
said. 

Cliff turned slowly and looked at him 
closely. ‘‘Why do you think that?” 

‘Because I think Twining had the pearls,” 
Lanty said boldly. ‘‘I may be wrong, but 
since you ask me what I think, I’m telling 
you.” 

Angela exhaled slowly. 
pretty grave charge?” 

“It’s not acharge. It’s an opinion.” 

“What grounds have you for thinking 
it?” Cliff asked. 

“Several. His having neglected to make 
an accounting of his trusteeship to my sister 
and me since mother’s death. His running 
about down in this potpourri of land specu- 
lators. His taking J. J. and Pax over to the 
clubhouse immediately after dinner, then 
slipping out after a dance. His telling me 
that he was going to send his chauffeur 
away when apparently he had no chauffeur. 
His saying that he was to spend the night 
at Dade’s house, then running over the 
road. Also he was on his feet when the 
lights went on—standing behind Miss King, 
as if to build an alibi.” 

Angela tapped off the ash of her cigarette. 
“Is he keen, Cliff?” 

“Keen, and also direct in the extreme,” 
Cliff said slowly. ‘‘ You never did like the 
man, | take it, Lanty.” 

‘*Never any more than at this moment.” 

“Have you an idea what my sister's 
pearls are worth?” 


“Tsn’t that a 


August 14,1926 


“T’d say they’d fetch the equivalent of 
$200,000 on the Rue de la Paix.” 

‘“‘Close. Have you ever heard anything 
against Twining’s honesty?”’ 

‘‘No—but I never heard of his being in a 
jam.” 

‘And you think he is now?’ 

“I do. Otherwise I think he’d have of- 
fered to turn over our fortune. It ought to 
be close on to half a million.” 

“‘As much as that? If you're right, why 
should he have ditched his car?”’ 

Lanty shook his head. ‘‘That answer 
would be surmise. He might have had a 
real blow-out and spill.” 

“Or 1 

“Or make any surveillance of himself 
seem scarcely worth while.” 

“Tow: 

“To you—or some accomplice. 

“Who could that be?” 

“T can’t imagine,” Lanty said. 

Angela gave him a curious look. ‘‘I won- 
der if that’s entirely true.”’ 

“Tt will have to pass, I’m afraid, Mrs. 
Kane.” 

“Would your opinion of him change if he 
were to make you a square accounting?” 

“On the contrary, that would confirm 
it,” Lanty said. ‘I’d be inclined to think 
that you had paid a deficit.” 

“Looks as if you and Gwen Satterlee 
wereright about sporting jewels, doesn’t it?”’ 

““Yes—and that you were wrong in pro- 
nouncing them copies. Why did you do 
that?” 

“Just for fun. To see what the verdict 
would be. But there couldn’t have been 
any collusion about the lights. It was too 
quick.” 

“I’m not sosure,”’ Cliff said. ‘‘ The signal 
might have been when we were rising from 
the table. You had pushed back your 
chair.” 

“The steward was in the dining room.” 

“Tt mightn’t have been the steward or 
somebody in the pantry. The electrician 
had a fused plug to show. He’s a new man 
too.” 

“Leaving the room would make a con- 
fusion,”’ Lanty said—‘‘shuffle the party 
about as the men stepped aside to let Mrs. 
Kane and the women guests go first. It 
had to be done quickly, before our eyes ad- 
justed themselves from the bright glare to 
the dim light from outside.” 

There was a moment of silence, then 
Cliff asked: ‘‘What would you do about it 
if you were in my place, Lanty?”’ 

“I'd leave it to me.” 

“To you?” 

“Yes. If Twining turns over our prop- 
erty to about the amount I have reason to 
expect, I’ll get it safely put away, then de- 
mand a close accounting, a strict auditing. 
He will holler and call names, but let him. 
I don’t want the blighter’s friendship.”’ 

“T see. Try to find out just where the 
money comes from. Where it last lay.” 

“That’s it. Your best chance.’’ Lanty 
gave a wry grin. “If you win, then we 
lose.” 

There was another brief silence, Cliff 
tugging at his crisp mustache, Angela smok- 
ing slowly. Lanty laid his finger on his lips. 
His ear had caught the faintest of squeaks 
outside the shuttered window behind him. 
He stepped to it quickly, noiselessly in his 
soft duck shoes, then slid back the shutter 
with a slam. The window was screened so 
that he could not look out, but the padding 
of swift retreating steps was audible to all 
three. 

Lanty looked at Cliff. 
much of your steward.” 

“Nomore dol. That was careless of us.” 

“Not entirely. Now you know he’s in- 
terested and needs watching.” 

“That’s not so easy—for an indefinite 
time,’”’ Cliff said. ‘‘How can I keep him 
watched?” 

“Well, if he heard what I just proposed 
and reports it to Twining, then we're all 
stung.” Continued on Page 71 


” 


“T don’t think 










THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





























































4) A few of the 
ad 15th Birthday Group of 
\ 75 Paramount Pictures 
q N Gilda Gray in $ 
| nN “ALOMA OF THE : 
: No, SOUTH SEAS” $ 
D> 3 A MauriceTourneur Production f h ; fi h Fi 
i Ne With Percy Marmont, Warnes ET away from home routine for an hour or two— Ks 
I Y Baxter, Julanne Johnston and ‘ i Ws 
j ) Willigis Powell From, the ples you'll do a better job when you come back! 
a ND Clemens. : . . 
i} x An Allan Duan Production of The healthy excitement of first-class entertainment in 
w . 's : , 
\ XY “PADLOCKED” ~ a quiet, cooled theatre is a happy program for any 
4 NS With Lois Moran, Louise Dresser ' x : ‘ 
q x BrckyGardincrendamesShele afternoon. Why not this afternoon? Arrange a date 
} ‘e amilton. ° ‘ 4 
i ¥ ‘a Biisteaies 0: Chias Bieuiiceinels ever the phone with your friends. Paramount puts a 
Yi Wiel en Whee Nal eeling touch of romance, “a castle in Spain,” into any day! 
X Louise Brooks and Gregory Kelly. 
S Kelly. or two hours at least, take Worry off the scheaule | 
X aed Hap Deng Beg For two h t least, take Worry off the scheaul 
<P ao | 
’ 
x GREATER MOVIE SEASON and go where the world’s on show! 
| x 3 
i] » , = 
| == y = 
N) Yf f 
6 
“If it's a Paramount Picture it's the best show in town/’” da: 






Ww Produced by FAMOUS PLAYERS ~LASKY CORP, Adolph Zukor, Pres., New York City. 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


of New and More 





a 


Pal 
he 


oe 


tt 
od 
i 
ee 






























THE SATURDAY EVENING POST a9 


Beautiful 
BROUGHAM 


| Larger—Wider—All Aluminum Body 
| With Rich and Smart Colors 


| Dealers are now showing the New Hudson Brough- 
), am in all its attractiveness and in smart color and 
\, upholstering. 
i It has distinctive new lines, comfort of appoint- 
a ment, and the famous Super-Six chassis. 
| t 
f) The rear seat 1s wider, the roof line a trifle higher, 
| and there is a pleasing change in the rounded 
+ corners. It is an all-aluminum body by one of 
i America’s most exclusive and oldest builders, 
» whose entire resources are devoted to the Hudson 
} Brougham and Hudson Sedan. This concentra- 
z= tion creates a great price advantage. Custom-built 
exclusiveness is available at quantity price. 
i) 
perc, earthen And the same advantage applies to the Super-Six 
Ny gr el gee he ee chassis. For 10 years its patented principle has 
Shurers, Movo-Meste Seat accounted for longer car lite and for more active, 
i) resourceful performance. Constant betterments 
4 have been worked into the Hudson with always 
i an increase in reliability and operation of the car. 
) The Super-Six principle by which vibration is 
i minimized is controlled exclusively by Hudson. 
M It is the best Hudson ever built. The Brougham, 
h | we are sure you will say when you see it, is one of 


the most beautiful of cars. And where can you 
x find any automobile so attractively priced? 


Dealers are now also showing 
the new Hudson Coach and the new Sedan 


SUPER- SIX. 


; 
it 


THE SATURDAY EVENING 


POST 


August 14,1926 


requisite of the well 


groomed. The SAFEGUARD 
of the physically active 


“ A MAN is as old as he feels,” says 

the venerable adage. But it takes 
more than Pollyanna-philosophy to keep 
him feeling fit. Soft arteries, firm muscles, 
and steady nerves are more than a 
matter of psychology. 

A man’s feelings are pretty much 
controlled by physical things. 

If his nerve force is taxed by strains 
from which he should be protected— 
if he is not properly safeguarded from 
fagging and strength-sapping exertion 
... you know how he feels! 

Every man who leads an ac’ > 
tive life should take a leaf from 
the book of the trained athlete. 

He never engages in the mildest 
exercise without putting on 


e©Bbaer 1926 


an athletic supporter—thus protecting 
sensitive muscles and tendons from 
precipitant and unexpected exertion 
and sudden strain. 

Another influence on a man’s day- 
by-day morale is his physical comfort. 
No man who is physically ill-at-ease 
can feel or look young. 

Here are two viewpoints from which 
any man ought to instantly see the 
advar tages and lasting benefits from 
wearing a health supporter. 

As an article of wearing apparel, it 
will add to his comfort. As a 
protection in exercise, it will 
minimize the hazards of strain. 
But to secure the utmost sup- 
porter-satisfaction and service, 





FOR SAFETY IN SPORTS 


PAL is the standard 


athletic supporter; so rec- 


ognized by leading colleges, gymnasiums and 


physical culture authorities. 


Knitted (not 


~~ 
i 
“a4 
xr . 
/, > 


many active men should have two 
types. A PAL for safety in athletics— 
to wear while golfing, hiking, walking 
and the like. And an O-P-C, for daily 
comfort—asa refinement of good groom- 
ing and a conservator of vitality. 


Both these Bauer & Black Health 
Supporters may be obtained at nearly 
all drug stores and from leading sport- 
ing goods dealers as well. Or... . 


y y 


Write for this Interesting Booklet 


We have published an extremely interesting book describing and 
illustrating the PAL and O-PC.... A copy is 
cA 
* a 


yours for the asking.... Address, Dept. 2, Bauer & 

~ g )s es. 
Pa \ 
$/v 
4 
f r 
SH 
y ¥ \v 


Black, Chicago ... Or if in Canada, address Bauer 
& Black, Limited, 96 Spadina Avenue, Toronto 


Bauer&Black 


Chicago New York Toronto 


~ 





FOR EVERYDAY WEAR 


For thirty-five years, the O=-P=C Comfort Sup- 
porter has en the daily companion of 
myriads of active men, brain workers, thinkers 


woven), making it light, cool, porous and non- 
chafing. Covered elastic threads knitted into 
fabric give amazing flexibility. Responds to all 
exertions of the body, instantly and pliantly, 
while still rendering firm support. Washable 
and durable. At druggists’ and sporting goods 
stores, one dollar, except in Canada. 


THE ATHLETIC SUPPORTER 


and doers. It has enabled them to save nerve 
strain, increase their capacity and conserve 
their vim and youth. It is a requisite of the 
well-groomed as well as the safeguard of the 
physically active. It may be had in lisle at $1. 
Or in silk at $1.25 or $1.50, except in Canada. 
At druggists’ and sporting goods dealers’. 


HEALTH SUPPORTER 





— 









no 
Yo) 


(Continued from Page 66 

Angela slowly waved her cigarette holder 
and watched the smoke eddies. ‘‘ That is, if 
Rosey grabbed the jewels.” 

“Well, somebody grabbed them,”’ Lanty 
said impatiently, ‘“‘and working on a proc- 
ess of elimination alone and apart from the 
reasons I’ve just given, it would seem to 
narrow down to Twining. But of course 
you know your guests better and may have 
reason to think somebody else the thief. 
Myself, for that matter. They were di- 
rectly in front of me.” 

“Don’t be an ass, Lanty,”’ Cliff said 
shortly. ‘‘You’re right about keeping that 
skulkin’ steward close until you can get 
some line on Twining. I see how I can man- 
age to keep the steward from communicat- 
ing with him.” 

“Tron him to the mast?”’ Angela asked 
ironically. 

“T took all my stores at Charleston. 
Staples for six weeks, as they’re scarce and 
dear farther south. I've filled up with gas 
and ice and water here. In thirty hours I 
can have the boat in the Bahamas, some 
cay from which there’s no mail and trans- 
portation.” 

“That sounds jolly,” Angela murmured. 

“Well, you want your jewels, don't 
you?”’ Cliff said shortly. 

“T’m not so sure that Lanty’s right.” 
She took her cigarette holder by the mouth- 
piece and using it in a fashion for which a 
boat hook is designed, caught at the fringe 
of a Shetland shaw] lying at the foot of 
the bed, drew it to her and threw it round 
her shoulders, for the weather had turned 
cool—a norther. 

Lanty watched her curiously. Any man 
would have watched the sinuous motion of 
her exquisite bare arms. But Lanty’s eyes 
were not on her arms. He turned to Cliff. 

“Your plan is good. Run off for the 
Bahamas, and cruise around several days. 
That will give me time for a show-down 
with Twining. I'll decline to be put off.” 

Cliff nodded. ‘‘ My crowd aboard would 
really like the Bahamas better than this 
Gold Coast, and so would I. None of us 
house boats care much about going offshore, 
but we’re not apt to get a gale right now. 
But I’ve got to keep an eye on that steward 
until we sail. I'll give him some clothes to 
press immediately, then shove off while he’s 
doing it. Gointothe chart room, Lanty, and 
wait for me there. I'll show you what my 
route will be.’”’ Cliff went out. 

Lanty turned to Angela. ‘‘Hope you'll 
forgive me for suggesting this exile, Mrs. 
Kane, but after all, it’s for your sake.” 

“Of course,”’ she said indifferently, ‘‘ but 
I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.” 

“‘Well, I hope so for my own sake.” 
Lanty bowed, went out and forward to the 
chart room. 

vi 
- ERE comes Hyacinth,” J. J. said. 
““What’ll you bet we don’t beat her 
to St. Augustine?” 

“T’ll lay you ten to one we do. She’s 
bound to stick two or three times where 
we'll skate over. Cliff told me that she was 
an old boat as house boats go and therefore 
heavier and deeper than most.” 

“That’s true. In the canals she'll be 
dragging four and a half feet where the 
mean depth is four, which means displacing 
six inches of soft mud. But that’s easy with 
her excess power.” 

“All the same I'll risk it,’’ Lanty said. 
“Are you on?” 

“I'd rather bet the other way if I’m to 
pilot,” J. J. said. ‘It puts an awful strain 
on my moral nature—the temptation to lay 
us on a bar.” 

“‘T’ll risk your moral sense. I’ve got a 
flair for a sport. Come now, are you on? 
Ten to one’s long odds, you know.”’ 

“For what?” J. J. asked. 

“Anything but money.” 

“‘That’s a big order. What have you in 
mind?’’ She gave him a suspicious look. 
‘“‘And why are you so ready to offer such 
odds? Inside information?” 

“Call it outside information.” Lanty 
grinned. ‘“‘ You've got to take a chance on 
that.” 








“‘But you may be betting on a sure thing 
for all 1 know.” 

“You can only do that on a past event, 
like the Rothschilds’ first great coup.” 

J. J. nodded. ‘When they had fifteen 
hours’ advance information that Wellington 
had won at Waterloo and that Napoleon 
was in flight.” 

‘“My, but you press people know every- 
thing. Permit me to point out that nothing 
in the future is sure. We might knock off 
our screw on a sunken log.” 

“Well, what's your bet?” 

“Let's make it something sporty. If you 
win I’m to be absolutely at your service for 
ten days. To do anything you may order 


of me. If I win you're to be under my 
orders for one day."’ Lanty looked at her 
challengingly. 


“That’s sky blue enough.” 

“Not entirely. The order does not in- 
clude spending money—merely service.” 

“There might be any sort of catch in 
that,”’ Pax said. 

“That’s what makes it interesting.” 
Lanty’s grin broadened. “Also it evens the 
odds. What price my time? And think 
how much I might get out of J. J. in one 
day—-twenty-four hours—one thousand 
four hundred and forty minutes.” 

“It sounds phony to me and decidedly 
fooly,”’ J. J. said. “But I'll be a sport. 
You’re on, Lanty.”’ 

Hyacinth swept past, a little off the 
wharf from which the A and P was about to 
clear. The complement of three returned 
the salutes from the resplendent craft as 
she glided by. Lanty struck the horn three 
times in answer to the three whoops of her 
siren. 

He started the motor, cast off his lines 
and they fell into the still troubled wake, 
swirling eddies in the dark oily water. 
Hyacinth, running at three-quarters speed 
with the fair current, rapidly drew away 
from the little cruiser that made at best 
about ten knots. Lanty hoped that she 
would be completely out of sight before 
they got down to the entrance where the in- 
side route turned off sharply from the St. 
John’s River. If J. J. were to see Hyacinth 
holding on down the inlet for open sea, she 
would naturally conclude that Cliff had 
told Lanty of his intention to run down 
outside for Miami, not going at all to St. 
Augustine, in which case the bet would be 
off. With a fresh north wind promising 
clear weather for at least another twenty- 
four hours, Cliff, a good sportsman, might 
easily do this, making the run in from 
twenty-eight to thirty hours. 

J. J. had come aboard immediately be- 
fore their start, and now she asked, “‘ What 
did Cliff have to say about Twining’s acci- 
dent?” 

“Not much. I told both him and Angela 
that in my opinion it looked dark for Twin- 
ing. Asif he’d faked the accident and loot- 
ing of his person to make it seem scarcely 
worth while to keep him under observation 
if suspected of swiping the pearls.”’ 

“‘Well, you did say it, didn’t you? Cliff 
would keep his mouth shut, but I’m not so 
sure about Angela. What if it gets back to 
Twining?” 

“T don’t care. I made no charge. 
Merely expressed an opinion when they 
asked for it. As I expect to go to the mat 
with him anyhow about my own affairs, 
what does it matter?” 

“Well, there’s something in that.” 

“‘He knows already that we never liked 
or trusted him,”’ Pax said, ‘‘and if he’d for- 
got about it, I reminded him last night.” 

“Lucky for him mother turned him down 
repeatedly,’ Lanty said; “if she hadn’t, 
Pax would certainly have poisoned him.” 

“IT may do so still,’’ Pax said. 

J.J. laughed. “Oh, Pacifica!” 

“Well, the Pacific has sunk many a bet- 
ter man than Twining. Don’t see how any- 
body with sense would trust him round the 
corner with a iollipop.” 

**How did you like Cliff?”’ 

“‘Cliff’sa dear. A shame that Dardanella 
sister had to spoil his evening.”’ 

“‘She’s spoiled a good many. Dangerous 
cat, Angela,” J. J. said frankly. ‘“‘And 





THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 





Cliff's such a ghastly idiot where she’s con- 
cerned. She and Rosey used to be thick as 
thugs until they had a fight about some- 
thing. Twining had a lot of girls both sides 
the big sea water.” 

“Sort of a bobbed Bluebeard. 
his one day,” Lanty opined. “I'll tell you 
this much. If he hasn’t got away with these 
pearls then Pax and I are stung. And if he 
has got away with them, then as you can 
plainly see we are likewise stung. He'll 
have to show just where the money he 
turns over to us was sitting before he turned 
it over.” 

The current is swift in the St. John’s 
tiver and, running with it, they were soon 
approaching the entrance to the inside 
route. Evidently the Hyacinth had in- 
creased her speed to nearly full, as to 
Lanty’s relief she was not in sight. Some 
few vessels were plying on their lawful or 
unlawful occasions, both activities going on 
these days near the inlets of our Gold and 
Rum Coast, also the Promised Land of 
aliens, desirable and the reverse. A big 
freight steamer was dropping downstream 
astern of them. Two flashes of white, a 
cabin cruiser and an auxiliary yacht, were 
cutting across from Fort George Island to 
the hole opposite. An oil tanker was an- 
chored in the channel, waiting for the tide 
to turn. There were also oyster boats and 
shrimpers, the latter all at considerable dis- 
tance. 

“‘Not much doing in the rum line these 
days,” J. J. said. ‘Too many C. G.’s on the 
job.” 

Lanty jerked his head at a long black 
launch with a low white deck house, coming 
up from the direction of Mayport, and 
which now appeared to be swerving on her 
course as if making for their own objective. 
“‘There’s one that is neither yacht nor fish- 
erman nor freighter, I'll bet. Bottle Ex- 
press.”’ 

J. J. nodded. ‘‘Got all the markings. 
Rum-looking in more than one sense.”’ 

As their directions converged, the boat in 
question apparently slowed down as if to 
follow them in. J.J. laughed. ‘‘These rum 
boats from the north don’t know their way 
round half the time. They pick up some- 
body about their speed and follow them 
through. Get their piloting done for them. 
That’s what he’s up to, I think. No use 
trying to leave him. He’s apt to have 
eighteen or twenty knots up his sleeve.”’ 

Lanty tried slowing down. The following 
boat did the same. Also the two yachts 
crossing the inlet appeared to slow a little. 

““We seem to be elected,” J. J. said. 
“‘Sometimes there'll be half a dozen follow- 
ing one fellow who seems to know the way. 
Saves the bother of checking every mark.” 

They entered the creek at the head of the 
procession, J. J. piloting, for she had made 
the run many times. The auxiliary yawl 
was soon left far behind, but the question- 
able craft and the cabin cruiser kept closely 
in their wake. In this fashion they passed 
the ruined sawmill and the old burned 
dredger, throwing the engine out of gear 
and gliding over the place of sunken logs. 
And here some mishap evidently befell the 
cabin cruiser, whether grounding or a dam- 
age to her propeller, for she dropped out of 
the running. 

The long black-cabined launch held on, 
however, smack in the wake of the A and P 
and about one hundred yards astern. When 
at moments J. J. directed Lanty to slow 
down, their trailer likewise slowed. Com- 
ing to the chain toll, Pax paid the eight 
cents per foot. They held on down the 
canal, and went through the woods with 
always their dark shadow astern. 

Lanty got a little restive. 

“T'll bet that fellow’s bummed his pilot- 
ing all the way from Perth Amboy. I've a 
notion to pull into the bank and stop and 
let him go on.” 

“‘And lose your bet?”’ J. J. asked. 

He laughed. ‘‘Not so good, eh? What 
are you going to make me do?”’ 

“*You’ll find out when the time comes.’ 

They held on their way, full ahead under 
J. J.’s skilled piloting, which was, however, 


He'll get 


Continued on Page 73 














s j 
; i 
é 
: 
7 4 
' 
i 
; : 
4 . 
i ; 
4 q 
‘ . 
2 


—_- «= 
Smokers- 
your ship is in/ 


As liner after liner comes up 
the harbor - down in the hold 
you will often find case after 
case of CRAVEN MIXTURE 
—shipped direct from the 
great Arcadia Works in London 
to supply the ever-growing 
demands of discriminating 
American pipe-smokers. 


CRAVEN MIXTURE is 
a pure, unadulterated tobacco 
of the finest quality - origi- 
nally blended in 1867 at the ex- 
press command of the Third 
Earl of Craven « and still 
cured in the same patient, old- 
fashioned way + sweeter, 
smoother and more satisfying 
than any other tobacco. 


Get a tin at your own 
tobacconist’s. Fill your pipe. 
With the first puff you'll real- 
ize why CRAVEN MIX- 


TURE is the most popular 
and highly praised quality 
tobacco in the world today— 
as Sir James Barrie said, ‘“‘a 


” 


tobacco for our greatest men 


If you will send the coupon 
below and 10c in stamps to our 
American office, back will 
come a liberal sample tin. 





Carreras, Ltd., 220 Fifth Avenue 
New York City 
Ienciose 10cinstamps. Send liberal 
\ sample tinof CRAVEN MIXTURE 
Special 
-——— 


MIXTURE 


Imported from London 
Ny Made by Carreras, Lid, Londom Estat 11788 ff 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14, 1926 


9) 
PY) 


CPOE Pb) Ra OD ees EY aR Ince 
BGS SS Oy ere 
; : SQ Kos 














> sat ane . 
AYN oy Y < Mm by i; 
ORES. Hae a i ym) A 
eee 2 KDE Ze 4 TAG 


y Afr Identify the aristocrat 
HAG 


of pens by this 
white dot 


It is the banner pen 
of a banner year 


Success, inspirited, larZe-measured success has come to 

the %reen pen with the white dot. Record millions of 

them are now traveling, in American pockets. They are 

in evidence everywhere —for the very ood reason that 

they have set new standards in pendom. For the first 

time a device has been absolutely Suaranteed for a 

U4 lifetime. No cost for repairs. That's faith. And this 
Ze ever-dependable Sheaffer Lifetime* is made of hand- 


AG GS 
Gr 7 
“UGS Y- 
Gee 
PEEHCS SS 


—~<yy tt 
Yagi a aum sate 
ab Ayres 
Rae Se 
SSE 
ee. x 
<2 Naw a 


a; 
(( 
tS 


Ay 
-- TY _ 


4 77,9! ; ; : ; . 
Uys’ some and practically indestructible Radite, which also 


LS ff BY 
j “< 
has been a looming, factor in this banner-year success. 


=) 2 
sy ‘\ 
. it 
V/A = 
v/s 


e = 
—~} 
PVN 


nS 
N 


Z\34 
LIDS 


“fu 
“— jfe 
' : s>- 
7, —_ >. —~ e 
a)» = — 
~ 


eres 


Vis 
YK 


LAYNSY)))) 


AC 
S< 


Ea 
KG 


}\ 
( 

(@ 
aes OD 


“Lifetime’’ pen in green or black, $8.75, Ladies’, $7.50—pencil, $4.25 
Blue Label Leads—fifteen cents 


At better stores everywhere 


SHEAFFER’ 


S— ATTY 
~ AOR 
) S> 

RN 
y 
S 


ov tay . 
b> AA 


LIKE 
a 


lao 
SS) 
Cc 


PENS:> PENCILS + SKRIP 
W. A. SHEAFFER PEN COMPANY 


ab (GIR OS S\N Wr FORT MADISON, IOWA 
{ Ck) ee a Oh ICI) ¥ —— at * Is Pp ig 
ist hy EL AI BIAS es MEAG Rep. U.S. Pat. Off. 
Ry AG RAE ha OD ps yy D 27.6: X Z - 

iA } aN (fu) hbo 4M, == .. . See ee 
tN VF YAS) BAO ELL os ? WPA 
RI ONY 7 


YS ii Z 
CPS AAS 


yy 
\ ») f/ 
AMG 








§ 











(Continued from Page 71) 
not required when in the long canal. Pax 
got luncheon, fresh fried sea trout, and a 
fruit salad of which the chief constituents 
were Antigua pineapples and California 
oranges. 

The afternoon reeled off, with the rushy 
banks on either side and rows of live oaks 
and palmetto where the ground was high, 
which in Florida means an elevation of 
some few feet. 

The sun was low when finally the water- 
way opened up more widely above the old- 
est city of the United States, which is St. 
Augustine. 

And here, as sometimes happens when 
the difficult parts of the route are past and 
the going easy, their vigilance relaxed. J. J. 
had gone into the cabin, and Lanty at the 
wheel was turning in his mind the events of 
the night before, following in a general way 
the ebb-tide bends which, whilst at most 
times safe practice, has yet its joker. 

The tide was running ebb out of the river 
and there is some six feet of tide at St. 
Augustine, while at Ormond, about fifty 
miles beyond, thereis but seveninches. The 
boat was running at full speed, and before 
Lanty was aware of the water shoaling, the 
A and P had slid her length high up on a 
bar of good hard sand. 

J. J. came flying out. ‘“‘What’s this? 
Trying to go across lots?” 

Lanty, too sore to answer, reversed. The 
A and P did not budge; but at this moment 
the boat of doubtful character astern came 
gliding up and checked her way. She was 
completely covered in, as if for broken 
water, something of a whaleboat type, with 
the wheelhouse sloping up and heavily 
glassed in. 

A small wiry young man with a swarthy 
skin and black beady eyes slipped out on 
deck. 

‘**Heave me a line, cap, and I'll give youa 
tug,”’ he offered. 

Lanty was glad tocomply. The A and P 
was jammed on hard, the tide running out, 
so that if they failed to get off immediately 
it must mean spending the night on the bar, 
and night was not so very far away. He 
passed the line, making it fast to the after 
bits. 

The other boat maneuvered so as to get a 
proper lead, then took a strain gradually, 
for the line was rather light. The A and P 
did not budge. The other boat slacked the 
line, then tautened it with a powerful jerk. 
The line snapped. 

“*Give me your anchor line, cappy. This 
here one ain’t so good. We gotta work 
quick. The tide’s goin’—fast.”’ 

Lanty went forward, unshackled from an 
anchor and carried the cable aft as directed. 
Meanwhile the black launch had turned in 
order to take a straighter lead. During 
this maneuver the cabin cruiser that had 
been delayed appeared round a bend and 
passed them with a friendly wave. It was 
already growing dusk, and a nasty bar or 
two lay between this spot and the city three 
or four miles away. 

But as bad luck would have it, the next 
violent tug tore out the cleat on which 
Lanty had caught aturn. The A and P was 
getting higher every moment, resting on 
hard sand fairly evenly throughout her 
length, but their helper did not appear to be 
discouraged. 

“‘Never mind, cap,’’ said he cheerfully. 
“We'll get her next time. If everything 
holds I could drag you down the street with 
this one. Eighty horses into her.”’ 

Another man came up, rubbing his eyes. 
Obliging they might be, but prepossessing 
they were not. This last was of a different 
type; looked like a Finn or Laplander, 
Lanty thought. But both were unques- 
tionably sailors of experience, however defi- 
cient might be their local knowledge of the 
place. 

‘Take a turn on the bits forward, cappy, 
then throw a loose bight of that busted line 
round this here one and to the other cleat 
so she’ll lead out fair.” 

Lanty caught the idea and obeyed. 
There came another and a harder tug. The 
A and P began to move, astern, drifted clear 


THE SATURDAY 


when the other boat slackened the strain 
and she drifted gently alongside. 

And then as Lanty looked inside he dis- 
covered that J. J. had been right. The 
waning light in the west was still sufficient 
to shine clear through the cabin windows 
and open door which was at the side of the 
black launch, and Lanty could not fail to 
see case after case stacked up almost to the 
cabin roof. 

A little startled at this bold cargo of con- 
traband, he was still staring at it when the 
small wiry man said in a metallic voice, 
“Guess you'll have to come aboard, 
folks. You may be all right, but I can’t 
afford to take no chances.” 

Lanty stared at him, aghast. ‘“‘What’s 
that?”’ 

“T forgot about this here cargo I’m 
carryin’. We wuz to unload the other end, 
but somethin’ went wrong. They’ll be 
lookin’ for us to land it down below, so we'll 
have to borrow that boat of yourn.”’ 

Before Lanty could answer J. J. said 
calmly, “‘Is this a hold-up?” 

“Call it that, lady. We won't keep you 
long. We’ll just shift the stuff into your 
boat and land it down below and then you 
can go back aboard again.” 

Lanty did not lose his head. He was 
merely outclassed. His quickness of wit 
told him instantly that here was a choice of 
two procedures, either to submit or to re- 
sist. It told him also that if he were to re- 
sist with any hope of success there was no 
time to be lost about it, and that his best 
chance must be right here and now. 

The two boats were rubbing gently 
alongside each other. The pair of rum run- 
ners were standing on the narrow strip of 
deck beside the low cabin house. No doubt 
they would be armed, but so far no weapon 
was in evidence. 

Lanty, though of average weight and 
stature, was quick and active and strong, 
and a good man with his fists. He had 
made some study of this art with skilled 
professionals at school in England and at 
Yale. So that now, conscious of the neces- 
sity to apply this knowledge for the first 
time that it had ever been seriously in de- 
mand, he acted on it with no hesitation. 

In this, so far as it went, one can scarcely 
say that it was unjustified. No man 
worthy of the name would see his boat con- 
fiscated for unlawful use and two lovely 
girls in his protection at the mercy of such 
bandits as were here. If blows were ever to 
be struck in defense of honor and chivalry, 
now was the time. 

Lanty acted quickly. He was standing 
on his own deck, the other two men almost 
within reach, at about the same level and a 
couple of yards apart. Lanty sprang in be- 
tween them, let drive a straight punch with 
his left that landed squarely on the point of 
the rum-running captain’s chin, and then 
without waiting to see the effect of this, he 
pivoted on the balls of his feet and served 
the other and stockier young man in similar 
fashion. 

It was a perfect example of quick- 
wittedness backed by strength, skill and 
high endeavor. The first man fell across the 
deck of the A and P, his legs still on his own 
boat. The Lapp, if such he was, dropped 
in his tracks and the two boats drifting 
slightly apart just then, an arm and shoul- 
der flopped down between them. But the 
blows, though sharp and nicely placed, 
lacked weight for knock-outs. The wiry lit- 
tle captain was scrambling up, when Lanty 
sprang at him with a swing on the jaw that 
sent him down again. 

A quick sense of strategy told him then 
that his chances would be better with the 
boats apart enough to slide the enemy over- 
board. Already drifting clear, Lanty tried 
to hasten this by shoving with one foot 
on the rail of the rum runner and his weight 
against an awning stanchion of his own 
boat. He was narrowly watching the floun- 
dering Lapp while so doing, for the swarthy 
captain appeared to be partly stunned. 

At that moment Pax shrieked, “‘ Lanty 
behind you.” 

Lanty started to twist about. Before he 
could accomplish this, something dropped 


EVENING POST 


on the top of his head with a crushing for: 
and he went down in a swimming vortex « 
meteors. 
vil 
ANTY, as though listening drowsily at a 
telephone he had been waked from dee; 

sleep to answer, heard fine tenuous voices in 
conversation. His intelligence rallied suffi 
ciently for him to follow the gist of what 
was being said. 

“Say, lady—you needn’t worry none. 
Thare ain't no danger if you tap 'em smack 
atop the bean. Thick ivory right there. I 
seen half a skull in a anatomy museum.” 

** But it is time he came round,”’ Pax said. 

“Oh, they take a long nap sometimes. 
But of all the guys I’ve dropped in my 
time, there ain’t bin one hurt permanent. 
Just the opposite. There was one been 
looney that got back his sense.” 

J. J. seemed to stifle a laugh. She was 
the sort of girl not to let the gravity of a sit- 
uation entirely destroy the humor of it 

“You must have a skilled touch, Mike. 
Like an anesthetist of ancient Egypt.” 

“The doctor that puts a guy to sleep?” 

“T see you've been there. Well, thou- 
sands of years before our calendar began, the 
Egyptians understood surgical operations 
and giving anesthetic.” 

“Huh! Youdon’tsay. Back in old King 
Tut’s time.” 

“Yes, and their method of making a man 
unconscious was like yours. They put a 
heavy wooden mold on his head, some very 
hard wood, like box, and then biffed him on 
top with a mallet. I suppose the expert 
first examined his skull to see how hard a 
tap might be given with safety.” 

“That’s right. If you was to hand a kid 
like him what you'd serve out to a smoke, 
*twould be good night. I touched him light. 
Felt sort of friendly when I seen how quick 
and easy he handled them two birds, Tony 
and the Finn. Lor’, lady, if you knew some 
of the wallops I’ve had in my time.” 

Lanty rolled over. ‘‘What’s all this 
about?” he asked a little thickly. 

“There, I told you,”’ said the heavy voice 
of an old-time bos’n’s mate. ‘He'll be all 
right now.” 

The man went on deck. 

Pax leaned down and passed her hand 
softly over the top of Lanty’s head. He was 
conscious of no pain except for a little sore- 
ness at the point of contact and in the mus- 
cles of his neck. A powerful motor was 
thrumming smoothly, and the boat he was 
aboard made a steady plashing as she cleft 
swiftly through the still smooth water. 

“‘How do you feel, old boy?” 

“Not so bad. Where are we at and going 
to?” 

“We're aboard that rummy, bound we 
don’t know where,” J. J. said. ‘‘ There was 
another man, a sailor, in the cabin and 
when he leaned over he lammed you on the 
dome with a slung shot.”’ 

“*Where’s our boat?” 

“They loaded their booze aboard and on 
of them went on with her. It looks to me as 
if they had come in from outside with a load 
and found some trouble about landing it 
So they came on through the canal, and 
when they saw us in a jam, decided to grab 
the A and P and transship their cargo in case 
the coast guard was on the lookout for this 
boat.” 

“Where are we now?” 

“Heading out through St. Augustine In 
— 

“Going to sea?”’ 

“Looks that way. Feel the swell?” 

“Thought it was my head. Then thers 
are only two aboard?” 

“Yes. But don’t try to start anything 
fresh. This man Mike seems a decent sort 
of pirate.” 

Mike came down the short ladder leading 
up into the wheelhouse. ‘‘ How's things, 
bo?” he asked. 

In the glimmer of the lamp set in gimbals 
Lanty saw a broad squat man whose face 
was outlined as a square. But the husky 
voice was not unpleasant. 

““Where you taking us?” he asked. 

“*Oh, just for a little run outside. We got 
another date to meet a feller comin’ over 














What’s Wrong 
With This Picture? 


In the first place, whoever 
heard of an office boy oiling 
an office chair? In the second 
place, a Sikes Office Easy 
Chair does not need oiling. 
The improved permanently 
oiled revolving mechanism 
takes care of that. According 
to carefully conducted tests, the 
original lubrication the chair re 
ceives at the factory should give 
fifteen to twenty years of smooth, 
easy, noiseless operation. After that 
you might begin to consider giving 
your chair another small dose 

This improved self-oiling feature is 
but the latest of many refinements by 
which the Sikes Office Easy Chair 
has added to the comfort and there- 
fore the efficiency of the office worker. 
To mention a few of the others 
there is the deep-cut saddle seat, 
the high shoulder rest, the generous 
width between the arms, the com 
fortable roundness of every edge 
and corner-wthe general design, 
scientifically and anatomically cor 
rect, which is fitted to the natural 
shape of the body. 

Drop in on the nearest Sikes dealer 
and give a Sikes Office Easy Chair 
the sitting test. 


The Sikes Seif-Oiling 
Revolving Mechanism 











SIKES COMPANY 
syuasenets PHILADELPHIA 











74 


across from the Bahamas. So we had to 
make cargo space.” 

“T see. What will this pal of yours do 
with my boat after he’s landed the stuff?” 

‘Leave her tied up somewheres. She'll 
be all right. So’il you folks if you just sit 
pretty and do like I tell you. Startin’ 
somethin’ wouldn’t get you nowhere.” 

He went up into the wheelhouse again. 
Lanty gave a short laugh and sat up with a 
head still swimming. ‘Talk about old- 
time pirates.” 

“IT don’t quite get all this,” J. J. said. 
“They must know that we’re going to raise 
a row once we get ashore. They might get 
away with rum running, but piracy like 
this would be worth at least twenty years. 
They take an awful chance of being held 
up with us aboard.” 

“Well; I suppose they know what they’re 
doing. All the same I don’t see what they 
want of us. You'd have thought they’d 
have set us ashore and beat it.” 

“Too near the city and too many boats 
passing. They were afraid of our hailing 
somebody and sending out an alarm. 
They’re part of an organization, I shouid 
say. The chances are they’ll land us tomor- 
row and turn this boat over to some other 
outfit. Feel like eating? They helped them- 
selves to gas and grub from the A and P.” 

“T could do with a bite. Mike knows his 
work. How long was I down and out?”’ 

“Half an hour, I should say. They 
worked fast. All the same I don’t quite get 
this, but there’s nothing much to do about 
it” 

The cabin of the rum boat was roomy and 
fairly clean. Pax got out some canned 
things and biscuits and heated malted milk 
on an oil stove. Mike came down as they 
were eating. He spread out a grimy chart 
on the folding table and began to lay off 
courses with parallels and dividers, going 
about this in a way that bespoke experi- 
ence. Presently he got up, looked out, and 
a moment later Lanty felt the boat swerve 
slightly as though turning. The long low 
swell became more perceptible. 

‘“He’s aiming to intercept some vessel 
outside the limit,”’ J. J. said. “‘ Anyhow you 
have lost your bet.” 

Lanty grinned. ‘Not so sure. 
win it yet.” 

“* How win it?” 

“Hyacinth wasn’t on ahead of us. She 
wasn’t even bound for St. Augustine direct. 
I played the low down on you.” 

‘How's that? Where was she bound 
then?’”’ 

“Great Bahama Island.” 

“What? Why Great Bahama Island? 
That bump has scrambled your brains. 
Cliff wouldn't take the Hyacinth so far off- 
shore. And what would he want of Great 
Bahama Island?” 

To keep his steward aboard until I have 
it out with Twining.” 

J.J. pondered this. “‘I think I get you,” 
she said slowly. *“‘He wanted to keep An- 


I might 


gela aboard.”’ 

“Well, that, too, perhaps, though he 
didn’t tell me so He broke off at 
sight of Mike’s face peering down at him 
from the wheelhouse. The light from the 
cabin lamp shone full on the man’s battered 
features and Lanty was struck by their ex- 
pression of savage eagerness, Lanty sup- 
pressed what he was about to say. 

Mike came down. “ You folks might as 
well go to sleep,”’ he said. ‘‘ You won’t be 
bothered none.”” And he got to work at the 
chart again 

The prisoners acted on this suggestion, 
tired from the day’s run and its trying ter- 
mination. Young, healthy and _ undis- 
mayed, they soon were plunged in sleep. 

Lanty.woke once or twice during the 
night. The second time he saw by an alarm 
clock hanging on the after bulkhead that it 
was two o'clock, but still the high-powered 
engine thrummed along with no slackening 
of its beat, while the rush of water along the 
hull indicated that they were still running 
at high speed. Lanty was puzzled. By 
this time he figured they must, if running 
offshore at twenty knots, be many miles be- 
yond the international limit, so that if their 


THE. SATURDAY 


errand was to intercept a rum ship, as 
would seem from Mike's careful calcula- 
tions to be their objective, then why go so 
far? j 

The motion had increased, a long slow 
wallowing and heaving fore and aft with a 
well-spaced grumbling and seething under 
the bow that indicated running with the 
swell. The night was fine and clear, as 
Lanty could tell from the bright stars he 
saw through a cabin window. 

The glare of sunshine and murmur of 
voices finally wakened him, when he dis- 
covered that it was broad day. There was 
the smell of coffee and frying bacon in the 
cabin. 

He sat up and looked round. 

J.J. and Mike were breakfasting amiably 
together. The air was balmy and soft and 
humid, Gulf Stream air. Then as the launch 
rolled heavily, a patch of indigo water 
showed through one of the cabin windows. 

“Look here,’’ Lanty demanded. ‘Are 
we bound for the Bahamas?” 

‘*They can’t be far, brother, if my reckon- 
ing of the current drift ain’t all wrong.” 

“Why the Bahamas? I thought you 
were out to meet a ship.” 

Mike grinned. ‘That’s right, brother.” 

This information in some way explained 
the business. It seemed also to forecast 
their being landed not on the Florida beach, 
speedily to raise an alarm, but somewhere 
in the Bahamas, where there would not be 
much chance of doing it before Mike could 
have taken on his new cargo and made him- 
self hard to find. 

The same thought was shared by J. J., 
for she gave Lanty an understanding look. 
Mike, as if to avoid further questioning, 
disposed of an enormous slice of canned 
corn beef, washed it down with coffee and 
went up into the wheelhouse, when Tony 
came down, gave them an embarrassed 
“Good morning, folks,’’ hastily secured his 
ration and followed Mike. 

Lanty could not see that he cherished any 
ill will for the semiknock-out of the evening 
before. Such treatment would be no doubt 
from Tony’s viewpoint a legitimate part of 
the game. 

The swift boat flew along. Looking 
through the cabin windows they could see 
nothing but the indigo-blue water heaving 
in long solid-looking swells that were no 
longer wind blown. Flying fish spattered 
out occasionally and skimmed away. 

Taking care not to be overheard, Lanty 
told J. J. of his talk with Cliff and what had 
been decided. Pax, giddy and seasick, 
though not actively so, was stretched out on 
one of the bunks in a semicomatose condi- 
tion. She made a plucky effort to eat, but 
soon gave it up. Any land, so that it was 
solid, would have looked good to the girl 
just then. 


EVENING POST 


‘So you’re convinced that Twining stole 
the pearls?” J. J. said. 

“T think he got away with them, but I’m 
not so sure that he grabbed them off the 
table.” 

“Who then? Angela couldn’t have 
reached them. At least without leaning 
way forward across the table, and then 
those beside her would have known it.” 

“I’m not so sure. Did you notice her 
cigarette holder?”’ 

J. J. nodded slowly, her purple eyes 
widened. “That long boat-hook thing? 
You’re keen, Lanty.”’ 

“T thought of it when talking to her yes- 
terday morning. She was in bed and leaned 
forward to hook a scarf lying at her feet.”’ 

“Tsee. She could have hooked the pearls 
the same way.” 

“Easily. With an extra foot of reach. 
Then she could have passed them on to 
Twining. Ladies who need money have 
been known to steal their own jewels.” 

‘And Twining staged that smash he had. 
To gyp Angela.” 

“Perhaps. She wouldn’t be in a position 
to holler.” 

“Then where does the steward come in?” 

“He might have been on and seen a 
chance to blackmail Angela, or possibly 
Twining, and there was danger of his tip- 
ping Twining off that I was on tohim. He 
was listening outside the window when I 
told Cliff about my plan to try and get my 
money first, then demand a close auditing 
of Twining’s accounts—what he’d done 
with it. The steward could use that infor- 
mation. Tip Twining off —for a price.” 

“And then you could whistle for your 
money. Look! There’s land. A beach and 
some scrub.”” The swell dropped suddenly. 
J. J. said, “‘We’re coming onto the Bank. 
This boat’s got speed.” 

But their rapid pace did not slacken. The 
launch tore on through the still clear water. 
The thrumming of the motor made conver- 
sation difficult, and possibly J. J. desired to 
think or doze, for presently she laid herself 
down on the bunk beside Pax. Lanty 
picked up a battered magazine and tried to 
read—curiously enough, one of a series of 
articles on the organization of rum traffic. 
But he found nothing of the present sort 
therein contained. 

Two hours passed. Lanty stretched out 
on the cabin floor and dozed. No use to 
bother until something happened. Mike, 
he decided, had a perfectly clear idea of 
what he was after. This would no doubt 
prove to be the loading of a cargo from 
some vessel not so far away, a supply ship 
from Nassau which trafficked with such 
boats as this, that were engined to give a 
coast-guard rum chaser the slip. 

Looking out from time to time, Lanty 
perceived that they were skirting a lovely 











| 








ORAWN BY NATE COLLIER 


Popular Pastimes No.1 
Fishing for Flying Fish 


August 14,1926 


beach on which he could discover no signs 
of habitation. Then a little later he saw 
that they were entering a wide bight or per- 
haps a strait between a larger island and a 
small cay. On one side the light was such 
that he could look down into the shallow 
water and see the dark coral heads on bot- 
tom. 

At least, Mike knew his business. He 
was probably the pilot and engineer, for he 
had several times come down to oil and 
overlook the motor. Tony might be the 
captain, in the sense of being in command; 
as Mike had not been in evidence when the 
offer of assistance was made, standing by 
the engine perhaps, or holding himself in 
reserve. 

Then as Lanty looked out he saw some- 
thing that fetched him up tense and 
breathless. Far away across the water, 
over a mile perhaps, he saw a flash of white 
close in to the beach, the other side of a long 
sand spit. Beyond were what appeared to 
be some scattered shacks, a little colony. 
The sand spit opened up as the launch 
rushed onward, when Lanty saw that this 
white object was unquestionably a yacht— 
a big houseboat, anchored in against the 
shore. 

He leaned over and laid his hand on J. 
J.’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. She 
roused, flushed, misty-eyed and the fine 
tendrils of black hair curling in wisps over 
her wide forehead. 

“Look out here,” Lanty said. J. J. 
struggled up and looked through the port. 

“My word— Hyacinth!” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Certain. That high bow and buff stack. 
Besides, what would any other house boat 
be doing out here? They stick to sheltered 
water.” 

The engines began to slow, presently to 
stop. Looking out the other side, Lanty 
saw that they were drawing in on a broad 
gleaming beach back of which there grew a 
tangle of scrub and low wind-blown trees. 

A quick misgiving gripped him. He 
turned and looked at J. J., whose face had 
suddenly whitened. 

“‘Here’s where 
Lanty.” 

“’Fraid so. Doesn’t look like much of a 
place.” 

The engine ran idle. The launch drifted 
slowly ahead, finally to lose way. There 
came a scrambling and scraping overhead 
and a bulky object obscured their view. 

“T thought so. Dropping a boat.” 

Mike came down. His scarred and bat- 
tered face was grim and his bloodshot eyes 
seemed to avoid those of Lanty and the 
girl. Paxsat up suddenly, flushed from the 
heat. 

“Have we stopped?” 

“Yes, ma’am,”’ Mike answered. ‘Gotta 
land you here while we get our load.” 

Lanty knew that he was lying, but asked 
idly, “‘ How long will that be?” 

“‘Can’t just say, brother. The vessel’s 
due here sometime today. But in case 
there’s any delay I’m leavin’ you a keg of 
water and some grub and a tarpaulin to rig 
a tent for shelter from the sun.” 

He began to collect the canned stores 
taken from the A and P, a kettle, some 
agate cups and plates and a frying pan 
Pax stared questioningly at her twin. 

‘‘What’s over there?” she asked. 

“Well, there’s a nice bathing beach and 
some trees and things right here. But 
that’s not the half of it. Hyacinth’s over 
the other side.” 

“Hyacinth?” 

“Yes. You can’t see her now because 
she’s behind a point.” 

“Where are we anyhow? We've been 
just flying ever since we started. We must 
be nearly down to Miami.” 

“That’s what, lady,”’ Mike said, and 
winked at Lanty. 

Pax dug her knuckles in her eyes. ‘“‘ Well, 
I don’t care where it is so that it’s dry 
land.” 

“That’s the stuff, lady,’’ Mike said 
heartily and went out with his arms full. 


we get marooned, 


(TO BE CONTINUED) 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


STEWART-WARN ER 


An tnodant™ tant 
SSN Campaign for Betier pee 


Accessori les 








You Need 


Every car needs shock absorb- 
ers. This does not mean that car 
springs are faulty—on the contrary 
—the better the springs the more 
need for shock absorbers. 






Automobile springs have been 
perfected to the highest degree. 
Even in the lowest priced cars the 
springs are marvels of efficiency. 


But—springs are designed to do 
one thing and shock absorbers 
have an entirely different mission. 


The more*“spring”—the livelier 
the spring—the more need for a 


shock absorber. 


The shock absorber is a governor 
for the spring—holding it to 
smooth action—preventing quick 
and excessive rebound—“ironing’ 
out the rise and fall of the under 
gear on the road. 


Stewart-Warner Shock Absor)ers 
are so designed to meet the road 
conditions perfectly. 


The Stewart-Warner name is your 
assurance that the greatest engi- 
neering skill and finest production 
methods guarantee the superior- 
ity of Stewart-Warner Shock Ab- 
sorbers. 


Save your car—ride smoothly— 
and safely—on Stewart-Warner 


Shock Absorbers. 


TUNE IN 
STEWART-WARNER AIR 
weeM THEATRE 226 Meters 

Shock Absorbers Bumpers Rear Fender Guards Spotlights _Electric Horns 


You Need 


It hardly seems necessary to tell you 
that you need bumpers. 


Perhaps you have bumpers or will 
most certainly have them put on your 
new car. But, when we say “You need 
Bumpers’—we mean real Bumpers— 


Bumpers built like Stewart-Warner 
Bumpers—with STEEL BRACKETS 
{not cast-iron Brackets}—and finest 
rust-proof spring steel rails and re- 
inforcing spring bar. 





It is not a matter of price. You need 
not pay more to get the best. It is just 
a matter of selection—of saying “I 
want Stewart-Warner Bumpers and 
Fender Guards—and NO other.” 


Then you can drive away fully con- 
fident that your car and its occupants 
are fully protected. 


You know the reliability of the Stew- 
art-Warner name. It is your guide 
to Bumper Beauty and Protection! 
STEWART-WARNER SPEEDOMETER COR’N 
1826 DIVERSEY PARKWAY, CHICAGO, U.S.A, 


188 Service Stations in U. S. and Canada and all parts of the World 


Blewa-lWainev 


Electric Windshield Cleaners Rear Vision Mirrors Speedometers Heaters Vacuum Tank 


TWELVE MILLION PEOPLE ARE TODAY USING STEWART-WARNER PRODUCTS 


You Need an Electric 
ShockAbsorbers Bumpers _  WindShieldCleaner 
ean 3 TLR 


Electric Windshield Cleaner is 
so small—compared to the prop- 
erty and life it protects-—that it 
is sheer folly to drive without 
one. 


The importance of a reliable au- 
tomatic windshield cleaner is 
brought home to every car owner 
every time he drives in the rain 
or snow. 


The city of Boston, in its endeav- 
or to promote safe driving and 
reduce accidents, has passed an 
ordinance commanding the use of 
a Windshield Cleaner on every 
car Operating on a rainy or snowy 
day—otherwise the windshield 
must be kept open. 


For your own comfort and safety 
—and in the interests of better 
traffic conditions—have a Stew- 
art-Warner Electric Windshield 
Cleaner installed. 


It is powerful and keeps the view 
spot clean and clear whether you 
are driving or the car is parked 
with engine dead. 


Steady, even stroke at all times. 
Not affected by operation of car's 
engine. 


Your car dealer or garage man can 
supply you. 


STEWART-WARNER 


MATCHED-UNIT RADIO 


The cost of a Stewart-Warner - 








~I 
wm 



































THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14, 1926 
























THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


ol Ee 


the Extra Process for Extra Mil 


Insulates Every Fiber of 
Every Cord with Rubber 


Greater stamina and longer mileage—added safety and comfort—that’s 
what Gum-Dipping, the extra process, gives to Firestone tires. 


Gum-Dipping goes to the very heart of every cord, thoroughly saturating 
and impregnating every fiber with rubber— minimizing internal friction 
and heat, one of the most persistent causes of tire failures. 


The cut-away section of a Firestone Full-Size Gum-Dipped Balloon, 
pictured opposite, shows a single cord greatly magnified. This cord is 
untwisted into fifteen smaller cords which are composed of many little 
fibers, all of which are thoroughly saturated and insulated with rubber 
by Gum-Dipping. 

Firestone Gum-Dipped Tires are delivering greater economy, safety and 
comfort in the day-in and day-out service of the largest truck, bus and 
taxicab fleets—in the battle of tires on race tracks—and on cars of hundreds 
of thousands of motorists throughout the country. 


Your tire costs will be materially lowered this year by having the nearest 
Firestone Dealer equip your car with these wonderful tires. See him now. 


MOST MILES PER DOLLAR 








THE 


theCourtesy Man _ 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 


y 


\ 


A Captivating Smile 


That’s Jimmy—the Courtesy Man. He 
operates thousands of gasoline service 
stations spotted all over America. You 
will find him at those stations equipped 
with the famous Fry Visible Pump. 


Jimmy selected the Fry because he 
knows it is built to serve dependably— 


not for just an hour—not for just a day— 
not for just a year—but always. He 
knows such service will bring you back 
for more gas time and time and time 
again. 


Buy your gas from a Fry. There is one 
close by. Buy from Jimmy. Millions do. 


GUARANTEE LIQUID MEASURE CO., ROCHESTER, PENNSYLVANIA 
FRY EQUIPMENT CO., Limirep, 401 Royat Bank BuiLpina, Toronto, OnTARIO 


Made in five and 
ten gallon capaci- 
ties—both labeled 
by the Under- 
writers’ Labora- 
tories. 








August 14,1926 





On the other hand, the suggestion that I 
take along my small bathroom scale was 
clearly her own. Also, I imagine, the 
ipecac and the raw beef. Though of an 
idealistic type, the practical side of her 
nature is also extreme:y well developed. 

But that she succeeded in breaking not 
one spring, bu an entire set of them, was a 
proof undoubtedly thet she was being care- 
fully guided. I still think, and Aggie agrees 
with me, that she could have done so with- 
out us in the car, and thus have saved 
Aggie much physical discomfort—at the 
third ditch her poor head went entirely 
through the top. 

But at least she achieved her purpose, 
and we limped into the untidy drive in 
front of tne Hartford house in a consider- 
ably demoralized condition. The house 
was as run down as the property, and what 
with it being a mile beyond the village and 
isolated, and having a cemetery just across 
the road, it was as gloomy a place as ever 
I have laid eyes on. The front porch had 
not been swept for months, and the door- 
bell was disconnected, so we had to hammer 
for admission. 

We learned later that the sound of the 
bell annoyed Emniie. 

Will Hartford himself opened ‘xe door 
anc. I cannot say that he burst into shouts 
of joy when he saw us. He had heard us 
drive up, and he came out onto the front 
porch with his finger to his lips and a wor- 
ried look on his face. 

“Sh!” he said. “She’s had a bad day, 
and she’s resting now. Most foll: leave 
their cars out in the road so as not to disturb 
her.” 

‘*We had to drive in,” said Tish, “ be- 
cause of our luggage, Will.” 

Well, he looked at the car then, and when 
he saw the bags in it he went quite pale. 

“Oh!” he said. “So you’re staying over- 
night, are you? Well, I guess you'd better 
come in, but don’t male any noise. The 
nurse dropped the thermometer a few min- 
utes ago, and Emmie hasn't yet recovered 
from the shock.” 

We tiptoed inside, and he went out and 
carried in our bags and the bathroom scale. 
But he had not been quite prepared for the 
weight of the scale, and just inside the door 
it slipped and fell with a terrible crash on 
the floor. It caught his foot, too, and there 
was nothing subdued either about the 
racket or the way he swore. 

Tish said she took heart from that min- 


ute. It showed that he was not entirely 
crushed. But there was a yelp from up- 


stairs, and the next minute a nurse in uni- 
form dashed down the stairs. 

“You've got the aromatic ammonia in 
your pocket,” she said co him. ‘“She’s 
fainted again.” 

Well, he let go of his foot and gave her 
the bottle, and Tish watched her rush up 
the stairs with a queer look on her face. 

‘*Do you mean to say that that noise 
made Emmie faint?” she inquired. 

“‘Her nerves are about gone,”’ he whis- 
pered, allsubdued again. ‘“‘Any unexpected 
sound almost kills her. I’ve had to put a 
piece of felt on the back porch, so the milk- 
man can put down his bottles quietly.” 

He limped into the living room and 
while Tish took the car to the garage in the 
village we followed him. Just one look 
around was enough for me, and the dust 
started Aggie to sneezing again at once. 
He closed the door with a pained expression 
and said he was glad to see us once more, 
and asked Aggie if she still made cream 
puffs with whipped-cream filling. Then he 
groaned, and said that he was a criminal to 
be thinking of the flesh when Emmie, as like 
as not, was near the end of the road. 

And at that moment the dog scratched at 
the door and he let it in. It was a tiny 


thing and as thin as a rail, and when Tish 
came back from leaving her car at 
garage she took one look at it and said: 

“Why don’t you feed that poor little 
beast?” 


the 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


THE GRAY GOOSE 


Continued from Page § 


“Feed it!’’ he 
something 
Last night it ate Emmie’s sweetbread en 
tire, and then came down and tried to take 
my pork chop from me.” 

He sighed and then limped to the door 


said. “It has 


It eats enough for 


worms, or 





two men 


again. 

“T’ll have some beds made up for you,”’ 
he said. ‘“‘I guess we can manage for one 
night.”’ 

“It may be more than one night,” said 
Tish, looking him straight in the eye 


“They have to send away for those springs, 
Will.” 

“Well, two nights then,”’ he 
went out of the room, closing the 
softly behind him. 

It did not require any keen intelligence 
to show us that we were not welcome, 
I said so to Tish. 

“‘Personally,”’ I observed, “I imagine he 
would rather have the whooping cough!” 

“Not the whooping cough,” said Tish. 
“That’s noisy, Lizzie.’”” She then walked to 
the door, opened it and slammed it hard. 
“‘There’s no death here yet,”’ she said, “al- 
though there may be, if I don’t hold myself 
in. Where’s that dog?” 

Well, the poor little thing had crept un- 
der a sofa, and was almost too feeble to 
crawl out. 

“Eats her food, does he?” said Tish. 
“So nobody feeds him downstairs, and he’s 
starving to death. Here,” she said, “try 
this, old boy.” 

To our surprise she drew a package of 
raw chopped beef out of her pocket, and the 
way that creature bolted it was a revela- 
tion. Tish watched him carefully but said 
nothing, and before Will came back she had 
burned the paper in the fireplace. 

Well, we didn’t see Emmie before dinner. 
Will said somebody or other had slammed 
a door and she had gone into a collapse. 
He’d sent for the doctor again. As there 
was no servant, we pitched in and cooked 
what was in the house, which wasn’t 
much, except for the broiled squab, baked 
potato, two rolls, some green peas and a 
saucer of ice cream which the nurse took 
up to Emmie. 

“Tf she would only eat!” Will 
“‘And build up her strength. But she just 
groans and turns her face away.” 

It turned out that the nurse ate while 
Emmie was merely toying with her tray 
upstairs and feeding Teddy from it. But 
that night Teddy did not go upstairs. He 
had been fed and was asleep under the 
table. And it wasn’t more than five min- 
utes after the nurse and the rest of us had 
sat down to our frugal repast when we 
heard Emmie feebly calling for him 

“You see?”’ Will said, hopelessly. “‘She 
won’t touch it, and she’s calling Teddy.” 

“And Teddy isn’t going!” said Tish. 
‘“‘He’s under the table at my feet.” 

Well, all through the meal we could hear 
Emmie weakly calling the dog, and Will 
and the nurse kept running up to see if she 
was all right. Once Will came down and 
tried to carry the dog up, but he ran out 
into the kitchen and into the yard, and he 
couldn’t catch him. 

“Emmie’s frightfully upset,” he said in a 
worried way. “She has fancies like this, 
ind I don’t like to cross her. But that 
dog has crawled under the porch and | 
don’t know what to do.” 

Tish said nothing. Later on the tray 
came down untouched, and Will said 
Emmie was in a very bad way. She would 
not speak to him, and just lay there staring 
at the ceiling. 

“She looks as though she is staring into 
eternity,” he said. “‘To think of me sitting 
here eating like an animal, and my poor 
wife 

He was so overcome 
room, and Aggie got out her handkerchief. 

“I’m afraid it’s the end, Tish,” she 
whimpered. 

“Tt is the end,” Tish said shortly, “ 
will be unless somebody holds me.” 


said, and 


aoor 


and 





said. 


he had to leave the 


or it 





[t was that evening that Will took Tish 
to a window and pointed out the lot he had 
selected in the cemet across the road 

‘It hasa goo 1 view, you see, Letitia,”’ he 
told her And her sainted mother lies 
there too. There is room for me beside her 
also. I shan’t outlive her very long.’ 

‘No,”’ Tish said dryly, “I imagine you'll 
not outlive Emmie, Will; not to amount to 
anything anyhow.’ 

iv 
Ww HAD a long talk with Will that 
night. We had dusted the living room 


and started a fire there, and he seemed to 
He even lighted a cigarette, after 
had told n that if he sat near the 





fire the smoke would go up the chimney. 
Emmie, it didn't like tobacco 
smoke 
“Tt affects her heart,’ 
outside, and then come in and change my 
The faintest 
The trouble, he said, had been coming on 
for some 


seemed, 


*hesaid. “I smoke 


coat odor sickens her.”’ 
years 

“We'd been talking about getting a car,”’ 
he said, ‘‘and I didn’t feel able to. I re 
member she had just said she wasn’t as 
well as she might be, and that she needed a 
car for fresh air; and when I said that I 
couldn’t afford it she fell over just like 
that.” He snapped his fingers. “In a 
heap. That was the beginning.” 

“And it’s gone on ever since?”’ 

“Yes. She just wouldn't take care of 
herself. And I didn’t understand. I used 
to ask her to do things. The second attack 
came when I asked her to wash out a pair 
of golf hose for me. The laundress always 
shrunk them, and I thought — well, she took 
cold, and it settled on her lungs. Every 
now and then she has a hemorrhage.” 

‘“‘A large one?” Tish asked. 

“T’ve never been around when she’s had 
one, but they weaken her terribly,”’ he said. 
“The worst thing about it all is I'm respon- 
sible. I never did realize just how delicate 
she was until it was too late.” 

We sat there for a while, and he seemed 
glad to talk and be warm at the same time. 
But after a while the nurse tiptoed in and 
whispered that Emmie wanted him, and he 
slipped out and creaked up the stairs, 

“‘T always read to her in the evenings,” 
he explained as he left. ‘It’s the least I 
can do, and it’s all she has.” 

Tish was very thoughtful that evening, 
and after Will had read to Emmie until she 
was sleepy, and tucked her up and fixed her 
window and taken her ice water and moved 
her bell closer to her and given her an egg- 
nog; which was ali, he said, she could keep 
down, he locked up the house and we went 
to bed. 

“Don’t worry if you hear me moving 
about in the night,” he said. ‘‘The nurse 
has to sleep sometime.” 

“And when do you sleep?” 
quired. 

“Oh, I get a nap now and then, and then 
I sleep in the train going up to business in 
the morning and coming back 


Tish in- 


n the eve- 
ning.” 

The last thing I heard that night was 
Emmie’s bell ringing hard. I heard Will 
get up and go into her room, when | 
dropped off he was still the re, 
about something 


and 


1 


I had been asleep for perhaps three 
when | 
from somewhere below, and I leaped out of 
bed. Across the hall I heard Will mov ing, 
and the next moment he ran down the stair 
case. Tish not in her and, 
convinced that something dreadful had 
occurred, I hurried down in my nightdress. 

I could hear Tish’s voice in the pantry, 
and Will moaning and saying Emmie was 
dead, and when I opened the pantry door 
I thought at first that she was. 

She was lying on the floor in a dead faint, 
with aslice of bread and butter in her hand, 
and Tish was standing over her 


Will off. 


was wakened by a terrific crash 


Was room, 


kee ping 












*She’s she said. ‘Let her 
alone. She’! me round all right.” 
“But she’s fainted,’’ Wil yelled. ‘Get 


Miss 


some 


Smit? 





uf} the dox tor. Py ir 
water over her.” 

Tish did this last turned on the 
cold-water tap, filled a dipper, and flung it 
contents hard in Emmi And if ever 


look furio 


She 


e's face 





I've seen a fainting woman us 


Emmie did. But she only opened her eyes 

and said weakly 
“Where am [?” 
“You're i 


nere, Gariir 
1 


bling all over 


ig,’ said Will, 
‘You'll be all right now 

“How did I get here?” she whimpered 

“You walked here,” Tish said dryly 
‘You didn’t fly, you know, Emmie.” 

Well, she couldn't have flown anywhere 
butter, and as health; 
looking a woman as ever I’ve seen. Will 
had run to telephone for the doctor, and 
Emmie seemed to realize the bread and but 
ter, for she held up the hand that had it and 
said feebly 

“What's this?” 

“Just what it 
Tish. 

“Strange! 
member anything. 
and when?’ 

“TI did,” Tish said coldly. “‘ You had just 
spread on the butter and were reaching for 
the jam when I came in.’ 


tren 





She was as fat as 


looks like, Emmie,"’ said 


; I don't re 
Who found me here, 


she whispered 


} 


She gave Tish a look of absolute hatred, 
and then the nurse ran in and drove us out 
Later on we heard poor Will carrying her up 
the staircase, and when he bumped against 
the rail with her she yelped. He twisted h 
back doing it, but when the doctor came he 
said it had been a 
bulism. 

“In her state of weakness,”’ he said, “it’s 
impossible to believe that she walked down 
She must have 





curious case of somnam 





those stairs, } 
slid down.’ 
“She walked down. I was behind hei 
““Why on earth didn't you stop her?” 
“T had an idea that maybe she was hun 
gry,” Tish said quietly 


{iss Carberry. 


Vv 
W E DiD not feed Teddy the next morn- 
ing, but we weighed him when he fol- 
lowed the breakfast tray to Emmie’s room 
And when he n¢ 
posedly eaten all of Emmi 
had lost two ounces! 
Tish gazed at the scales angrily 
“As I thought!” hserved ‘And 
that poor devil of a husband hasn't prob 
ably been out of this house at night for five 


years, or had a sock darned in ten! If he 


down, having sup 


e’s breakfast, he 


cat 





she © 


had any sense he'd take up with another 
woman.” 
“Why, Tish!” said Aggie, aghast. 


“If there’s anything more immoral than 
that woman lying up there in bed and tak- 
ing everything Will gives her 
nothing back, I haven't heard of it.” 

“She's his wife 


and giving 


*She’s not his wife,”’ said Tish. she 





a cancer, that’s what she is. Cancers th ive, 
but the people who have ’em die. And he 
got her.”’ 


It was that morning that Emmie decided 
to make the best of a bad job and see us, 
and all the time the nurse was fixing her up 


for the doctor's visit she told us her symp 
toms. For a dying woman she certainly 
was particular about her appearance, for 
she was dressed up to beat anything in a 
silk nightgown, and with her hair er 


Just before the nurse went 


mped 
out she sprayed 
her with violet water, and Emmie stopped 
whining about serums and 
long enough to say that she had to use per 
fume because the smell of 
house upset her poor weak stomach 
“And Will is so s,’ 
“Would you believe that he brought home 


the 


blood pressure 
cooking in the 
thoughtiess,”’ she said 


spareribs and sauerkraut other night 


And it isn’t 


Continued on Page 8&3 


more than ten days since he 





£0 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


We all like the easiest way- 


is human nature to prefer the easiest 
way of doing things ... Practically 
every important invention that has 
marked the progress of the times has 
been aimed at simplifying some job or 
other. Take the typewriter, the sewing 
machine, or any one of a hundred others 
that you think of. 


We are constantly studying out new 
ways to make things easier to do; partly 
because we want to speed up, get more 

; accomplished; but also——and this must 
not be overlooked—because we like to 
pamper ourselves. About a great many 
things, to be really honest, we're all 
fundamentally lazy. 


And particularly, we're lazy about some 
of the small important things of life. 


Even in that simple matter of brushing 
the teeth— a daily duty we owe to our 
own well-being—many of us are negligent. 


At night we're tired; in the morning 
we're in a hurry 

Realizing the truth of this, the makers 
of Listerine set out deliberately to for- 
mulate a dentifrice that would furnish 


*This specially prepared cleansing medium 
(according to tests based upon the scale of 
hardness scientists employ in studying 
mineral substances) is much softer than 
tooth enamel. Therefore, it cannot scratch 
or injure the enamel, 

At the same time it is harder than the 
tartar which accumulates and starts pyor- 
rhea and tooth decay. 


the easiest, quickest way to clean teeth. 
In short, a tooth paste for lazy people 
—and in tooth brushing, at least, the 
word lazy applies to practically all of us. 


Listerine Tooth Paste is really very 
easy to use. It works fast. With just a 
minimum of brushing your teeth feel 
clean—and actually are clean. 


You have the job done almost before 
you know it. 


This is on account of the way Listerine 
Tooth Paste is made. It contains a 
remarkable new cleansing ingredient— 
entirely harmless to enamel*—plus the 
antiseptic essential oils that have made 
Listerine famous. 


And how fine your mouth feels after 
this kind of a brushing! Then, besides, 
you know your teeth are really clean— 
and therefore safe from decay —Lambert 


Pharmacal Co., St. Louis, U. S. A. 


P. S.—By the way, Listerine Tooth 
Paste is only 25 cents for the large tube. 


August 14,1926 


LISTERINE 


COPYRIGHT 1926, LAMBERT PHARMACAL CO. 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


RAST PAST 


~~~ easy to use 








; 
i 
iF 





Bra up 300 miles of track at 
135 miles an hour would also burn 
up any set of nerves ever planted in the 
human bedy if there was no relaxation 
through the dizzy pace which race drivers 
must face and force. When a human be- 
ing becomes a streak of lightning he must 
have his moments of relaxed tension, or 
run into shattered nerves. The smart race 
drivers, who win and last, seize every op- 
portunity —their momentary pauses at the 
pits and even in the whirl of the race 
itself—to relax—to soften the strain on 
over-tensed nerves. There must be relaxa- 
tion even in the wild whirl of race driving to 
insure rested, steady nerves for the final ef- 
fort. Either they relax or something cracks. 


Rae OP get ry oe OE 


WATSON 
STABILATORS 


Relaxation is possible only 
when you know that no force 
can throw you. The only way 
topreventanyforcefrom throw- 


Cadillac 

Duesenberg 

Isortta 
Fraschini 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Chrysler 
Franklin 
Jordan 


Peerless 


August 14,1926 





OO RRR IS EE A EF RE a Sern ce mE mE NN 


ARRY HARTZ stands out as probably the 

most consistent and dependable driver of 

the automobile race track. In more than four- 

fifths of all the championship events in which he 

has competed, he has been among the first three 
to finish. 


Hartz attributes no small part of his success to 
his ability to relax. After having experienced 
the value of relaxed motoring in six other 
Stabilated cars, he recently refused to accept 
delivery of a new car for his personal use 
until it was equipped with Watson Stabilators. 
He wrote: 

“In driving from city to city, it is imperative 
that I be allowed to thoroughly relax, so that I 
may arrive refreshed. That is why I use Watson 
Stabilators. I would not drive acar without them.” 
Thus another high authority adds his testimony. 
In the face of the rising tide of Stabilator evi- 


ing you is to resist each force in 
(LA... kee ion, oe its > McFarlan Willys- 

And right there you have the ; ’ 
Stabilator principle. This Sta- seats Knight 
bilator principle is patented 
and Watson Stabilators enjoy 
complete, sole and exclusive 
license under these patents. 


dence, who can overlook the value of relaxed, 
Stabilated motoring ? 


Such pre-eminent cars 
are standard equipped to 
give you relaxed motoring. 


JOHN WARREN WATSON COMPANY Twenty-fourth and Locust Streets PHILADELPHIA 












(Continued from Page 79) 
fried some onions for his supper! 
suppose men are all alike.” 

“No, Emmie,” Tish told her gently. 
“No, they are not. There are some men 
who would as soon commit murder as not. 
But your Will isn’t that sort. Anybody can 
see that.” 

Well, Emmie eyed her suspiciously, but 
Tish went on asking her if all the arrange- 
ments for the funeral were made, and if she 
would like us tostay on until everything was 
over, 

“We could put the house in order, and so 
on,” she said. ‘I dare say Will will marry 
again, because the lonelier they are, the 
sooner they do it; but we could leave 
things tidy. And he would have to wait a 
year anyhow.” 

“T should think he would,” said Emmie 
coldly. ‘And if you think I intend to have 
this house put in order for Will’s second 
wife you can think again. Anyhow, Will 
Hartford has never looked at another 
woman and never will.” 

“Not even at that nurse of yours?’’ Tish 
inquired. “I was just thinking last night 
that I didn’t consider it exactly wise to 
leave these two together as much as you do. 
She’s a right nice-looking girl.” 

“TI can’t say I admire your taste!” she 
said. But when the nurse came back she 
gave her a long, hard look and then said 
she would take a rest so as to be ready for 
the doctor’s visit. 

“T don’t know if Will has told you,”’ she 
remarked, ‘“‘but I’m not supposed to have 
company. Excitement is my worst enemy.” 

“Well, we’re not company, Emmie,” 
Tish told her. ‘‘ You just go on and be as 
sick as you like. And don’t worry about us. 
Nobody with a heart would leave Will to 
go through the funeral by himself. And 
you might tell us where your grave clothes 
are while you're still able to speak.” 

“They’re in the lower bureau drawer,” 
she said in a hard voice. And we went out. 

When the doctor came that day Tish 
waylaid him in the lower hall. And he said 
Emmie Hartford could get out of bed and 
do a day’s washing any minute she had a 
mind to. But he said also that if he told 
her so she would only shop around for an- 
other doctor, who would tell her she had 
something seriously wrong with her. He 
had not been paid for a long time, but he 
did not mind that as much as the way she 
made him lose his sleep. 

““My wife says,”’ he stated, “‘that she 
seems to know the minute I’ve taken my 
trousers off. I don’t know when I’ve slept 
a night through. Why, if you’ll believe me, 
the alarm clock in the kitchen went off at 
two o’clock the other morning and I got up 
in my sleep and was out to the cemetery 
here before I wakened.” 

Well, after he had gone we sent Emmie 
a nice lunch, and soon after, she began to 
call the dog. But Tish had fed him and 
shut him in a closet, and once more she had 
to send her tray down untouched. She was 
in a villainous temper by that time and the 
nurse came down about four P.M. and said 
there was something queer about her. She 
just lay in bed and stared hard at her. 
And when she had told her she was going to 
put on a fresh uniform before Will got 
home, Emmie had called her something 
that sounded like a hussy. 

But if Emmie’s condition was worse, 
Will’s was distinctly better. He ate a real 
meal that evening, and, instead of hurrying 
up to her afterward, he sat for a little 
while in the sitting room. We had brought 
along some blackberry cordial, and he 
sipped it with appreciation. 

‘‘T was making some right good moon- 
shine myself a while back,’”’ he said. “I 
bought a still, you know, and I gave the 
doctor some one night. He turned his car 
over on his way back into town and broke 
his arm. But the smell annoyed Emmie, so 
I had to give it up.” 

Well, Miss Smith came in for a few 
minutes, too; she seemed glad to relax for 
once. But pretty soon Emmie’s bell began 
to ring and she had to go up. It was no 
time at all before she came running down 


But I 





THE SATURDAY 


the stairs with a thermometer in her hand 
and a scared look on her face. 

“You'd better come up at once, Mr. 
Hartford,” she said. ‘“‘She’s got a terrible 
fever.” 

“ How high is it?” asked Will, beginning 
to tremble. 

“About as high as it can be,’’ said Miss 
Smith, looking worried. “I've telephoned 
to the doctor, and he says to use a cold 
pack. But she won't have it.” 

But as usual, our dear Tish rose to the 
emergency at once. 

“Certainly she will have it,’”’ she said. 
“You crack the ice, Will, and you might 
mix some salt with it while you're at it. 
There’s no use doing it unless we do it 
right. A high fever is not to be fooled 
with.” 

Well, I don’t know when I remember 
such a fuss as Emmie made over that cold 
pack. She was strong, too, and it was all 
we could do to put her between sheets 
wrung out of ice water and then pour the 
ice and salt over her. She howled and 
screamed, but Tish worked calmly. 

“You're killing me!” she would yell. 
“I’m dying!” 

“You will die if you don’t keep quiet,” 
Tish would say. 

“But I'll take cold; 
monia.” 

“Not with a temperature like that,” 
Tish would assure her, and pour on more ice 
and salt. 

They did not stop until her temperature 
was down to ninety-five. She would not 
speak to any of us by that time, but when 
it was all over, Tish came over to the room 
Aggie and I occupied together and closed 
the door. 

“T fancy,” she said grimly, “that it will 
be some time before she holds the ther- 
mometer against her hot-water bottle 
again.” 


” 


I'll take pneu- 


vi 


S TISH says, the Emmies of this world 
never fool the women, although they 
always fool the men. But Emmie knew 
well enough that she had not fooled us for 
a minute. And the way she hated us after 
the affair of the cold pack was simply 
wicked. She would lie in bed and loathe 
the very ground we walked on, and when 
she found it would take at least a week to 
repair the car she had a convulsion and 
frothed at the mouth. Tish was quite cer- 
tain the froth was merely lather from a 
cake of soap, but Will was almost out of his 
mind. 

The strangest thing, however, was the 
way she had turned against Miss Smith. 
Possibly the fuct that Tish found a picture 
of her in Will’s coat one day while she was 
repairing it in Emmie’s room had some- 
thing to do with it. But both Will and 
Miss Smith were as puzzled as could be 
about it, and Miss Smith said it had been 
on her bureau when she went out. 

Will went right down on his knees beside 
Emmie’s bed and swore he had always been 
true to her. 

“There has never been any other woman 
in my life, Emmie,”’ he told her. ‘I've 
never had any time for that sort of thing, 
and you know it. Surely you can trust 
me!” 

“T trust nobody,” said Emmie grimly. 
“Tf you haven’t the decency to wait until 
I am gone, which at the best is a matter of 
weeks, I can but lie here and await the 
end.” 

But she couldn’t very well send the 
nurse away, for in ten years she had had 
most of the nurses thereabouts, and none 
of them would come back, and she knew 
it. She was very suspicious after that, 
however, and the very next day, Aggie 
happening to dust baking soda instead of 
powdered sugar over her cup custard— 
yes, she was eating a little by that time; 
she had to, or starve—she accused Miss 
Smith of trying to poison her. 

Naturally, things were considerably 
strained from then on, although both Will 
and the dog were showing marked im- 
provement. Will would come home to a 
clean house and a good dinner and smoke 


’ 











EVENING POST 









a couple of cigarettes up the chimney after- 
ward. Then he would get up heavily and 
draw a long breath and say: 


“Well, I suppose I'd better be getting | 


on the job again,” 
stairs. 

But long after he should have been in 
his bed, getting the rest he needed, we 


and go slowly up the 


could hear him reading aloud, on and on, 


until Emmie went to sleep. 

How long this might have continued I 
cannot say. 
the half of a coconut cake from the kitchen 
cupboard, and Tish promptly went to Will 
about it. 

““None are so blind as those who will not 
see,”’ she said to him. “But if you think, 
Will Hartford, that a mouse ate that cake 
and then put the pan in the garbage can, 
I don’t.” 

“But I don’t think anything of the kind, 
Letitia,’’ he protested, looking distressed. 
““Every now and then a tramp breaks into 
a house out here and eats what he can 
find.” 

Tish gave him a terrible stare, and then 
she used an expression I had never before 
heard from her lips. 
idiots,”’ she said, ‘‘and some are just plain 
fools,”’ and with that she stalked out of 
the room. 


She called us together for a council of 
war, as she termed it, after he had gone to | 


the train. 

“Two courses are open before us,” she 
said. ‘‘We can leave the poor deluded im- 
becile to his fate, or we can take matters 
into our own hands. 


out. I cannot be hampered.” 

Well, after some argument we agreed to 
do whatever Tish suggested, although 
Aggie stipulated that Emmie, being her 
cousin by marriage, was to suffer no phys- 
ical harm. Tish, on the other hand, de- 
manded absolute freedom and no criticism. 
And this being satisfactorily arranged, it, 
remained only to get rid of Miss Smith. 

As it happened, fate played into our 
hands that very morning. 

The coconut cake had upset Emmie’s 
stomach, and the doctor sent some medi- 
cine for her. But Tish met the boy at the 
door, and, having instructed us to have the 
kettle boiling, was able to steam off the 
label and place it on the bottle of ipecac 
swiftly and neatly. Miss Smith gave her 
two doses before it began to act, but when 
it did it was thorough. 

Well, Emmie was about as sick as any 
human could be and live for the next six 
hours. I suppose it was the first real sick- 
ness she had felt in ten years, and the fuss 
she made was dreadful. There was no use 
blaming a tramp for the coconut cake after 
it either. But what really matters is that 
she made them bring Will out from town. 
And between paroxysms she told him Miss 
Smith had poisoned her. 

Miss Smith left that afternoon, but be- 
fore she did she told Will that Emmie was 
as well as he was, or even better, and that 
the doctor knew it too. But if anyone 
thinks that Will believed her he does not 
know Will Hartford. All he did was to 
dismiss the doctor, too, and then come 
back to the kitchen and moan about the 
way people treated Emmie. 

“Even that doctor never understood 
her,”’ he said despondently. “‘And I must 
owe him two hundred dollars or so this 
minute! Sometimes, Letitia, I think there 
is no compassion left in the world. Even 
the neighbors neglect her nowadays; I 
don’t believe there has been a bow! of 
calf’s-foot jelly sent to her in months.” 

“Really?” said Tish. “‘It is surprising, 
when you think of the things folks might 
send her and don’t. Every now and then 
you read of somebody getting a bomb, or 
poisoned candy.” 

He looked at her, but she went on fixing 
Emmie’s tray in her usual composed man- 
ner. 

We had a day or two of peace after that. 
Tish brought Doctor Snodgrass, her own 
physician, out from town. And after a 
short talk with her, he put Emmie on a very 


“Some people are | 


If the former, we | 
must go; if the latter, that nurse must get 


But one morning we missed | 


Ax 


wn, 


DOXIXt 


Arr, 


Ad 








83 





Heat Your Home with 


Va, f 
rn a 
XO XOX?) 














» x 
> c) 
4 
<> $ 
oe ag 
R Rs 
x exe 
: dle 
ms an et a) 
rs ms 
& the Pupbe your *& 
p< > be 
es Furnace Man! 
a 
SA Pac “IXY ee 
sa GAS HEATING requiresno 54 
SS : 
4 more attention than a pup &€ 
ms . , Le 
mq can give it. Itis the only fuel 5% 
4 ~which is absolutely free from ™$ 
xs ms 
ba care. oC] 
xa , , $ 
<4 Turn it on in the fall and & 
>< ° Y . ’ . re 
ba turn it off in the spring. 5% 
S , 
®< Throughout the winter it © 
xe : Le 
x will take care of itself. Auto- && 
4 matically controlled, it main- %& 
baa ° “f | 
xq tains uniform temperatures 5% 
4 —as warm as vou desire by 
bd Jay ; cool ; . - 
pq Gay—as COO! as you wish at Se] 
pe | 
m4 night. x 
oe oa 
a < 
Se Many gas companies grant Be 
4 special house heating rates 
< : 1 11 z p< 
x which, with the highly efi- § 
<< cient Bryant Gas Heaters, & 
ee - 
<q bring the wonderful conven- 5a 
4 ience and comfort of gas & 
ed |] \ hi > h of ost es 
me we Vithin reach oF most Sc 
vs) home owners. ve 
me oe) 
< Ask your local Bryant office no 
e« or write us herein Cleveland &% 
x4 for complete information on ms 
x gas heating. eC] 
| . 4 
a | 
pq THE BRYANT HEATER & MFG. CO. me 
ms 853 St. Clair A ela re 
p< Branches 27 Principal Cities Le 
« >. 
m4 rns 
a ~ 
ba ms 
bxe me 
ma Oe 
ag ; Og) 
a) 4 
us RS 
KS + ns 
ms ee 
a mx 
pve wy 
mK SG 
x . Lites Ste Tne BS 
< ~for Hot Water,SteamVapor 
<> = r . c . .c S 
*< and Warm Air Heating Systems €s 





Stroke of the Pen 


brings a month 


of Health 


FREE 


HY bother longer with wor- 
risome,unsanitary,ordinary 


milk-bottle caps when your name 
and address on the attached 
coupon will bring you immedi- 
ate relief? 


We'll be glad to send you, with 
our compliments, a month’s sup- 
ply of Perfection Pull and Hinge 
Milk-Bottle Caps which do away 
entirely with the messy, temper- 
spoiling use of thumb or ice pick. 
Just a gentle pull on the inde- 
structible tab and the bottle is 
opened. A slight pressure and the 
bottle is closed again— safely — 
securely. ; 

Your milkman should be glad to 
furnish you with this healthful 
convenience. After you have used 
Perfection Caps for a month, 
you'll insist upon them. 


PERFECTION 


MILK-BOTTLE CAP 
MAiy 


Oneida, N. Y. 


send me a month’s supply 


of Perfection Caps. 
Name 


Address__ 


Canadian Manufacturers: 
THE ARIDOR COMPANY (Canada) Limited 
245 Carlaw Ave., Toronto 





| she rang her bell, either. 





THE SATURDAY 


| light diet and went away again. As Tish 


had put a padlock on the kitchen cupboard 
the light diet was all Emmie got, too. She 
had a bow! of junket for breakfast, beef tea 
for lunch and in the evening she had some 
milk toast, and if ever I’ve seen a woman 
suffer she did. We did not run every time 
She would jingle 
it for half a dozen times, and for a feeble 
woman the way she could fling it when 
nobody came was a marvel. 

But, looking back, I can see that we under- 
estimated her intelligence. She had a good 
bit of time, by and large, to think things 
out, and she was no fool, whatever else she 
might be. And I imagine it galled her, too, 
to see Will filling out and looking more 


| cheerful every day. He was spending more 
| time than ever downstairs and, instead of 


tiptoeing into the room when he came home 
at night, he would walk in briskly and say: 
“Well, how’s the old girl tonight?”’ 

He still wandered across to the cemetery 
now and then, but we fancied there was 
more of speculation than of grief in his face 
when he picked the daisies off his lot. And 
one night, I remember, he came back and 
said it was a curious thing that Smmie’s 
mother had lived to be eighty, as frail as she 
had been, and that Emmie was like her in a 
lot of ways. 

Tish eyed him. 

“She certainly is,”’ she said. ‘I thought of 
that the night I found her in the pantry.” 

And then one night there was a yell and 
a crash upstairs, and when we all ran up, 
with Will in the lead, we found Emmie 
stretched out on the floor, and she said she 
was paralyzed from the waist down! 

It took the four of us to get her back into 
bed. She gave Tish a glance of triumph 
when she was finally installed and then 


| grabbed Will’s hand and began to groan. 


“Tt’s the last straw,”’ she moaned. ‘‘Un- 


| til now I have not been entirely helpless, 


| but this is too much. 


I am near the end, 
William.” 

““My poor Emmie!”’ he wailed. 
poor afflicted girl!” 

Things were not only no better, for all 
that we had done, but worse. 

Well, Will carried on like a madman, of 
course. There were specialists from town 
and a woman to massage her legs, but not 


“oe My 


| a muscle would she move. Except once, 


when Tish jabbed a pin into her and she 
jerked and yelled like a lunatic. But she 
had us beaten, of course, for she had 
worked it all out in her mind. If she had 
paralysis she didn’t have to have any- 
thing else, and the very first thing she asked 
for was a broiled beefsteak. After that she 
ate everything; she ate like a day laborer. 

Tish tried skimping on her tray, but if 


| she got one egg instead of two in the morn- 
| ing poor Will would come down looking 
| troubled. 


“We must build her up,” he would say. 


| ‘She needs all the strength we can give her, 


Letitia.” 

And that was the situation when our 
poor Tish finally took matters into her 
own hands, with results for which she has 
been so cruelly blamed. 


vil 
HAVE now come to that series of mys- 
terious events which led, with tragic 
inevitability, to the crisis on the night of 
our departure. And it may be well here to 


| revert to the subject of spiritualism. 
Smith-Lee Co., Inc. | 


What with one thing and another Tish 
had apparently lost interest in it, hers be- 


, | ing a mind which concentrates on one idea 
Without obligation please | 


at a time, and having occupied itself almost 
entirely with Emmie since our arrival. 
True, such reading aloud as she had been 


| forced to do for Emmie while Will had 


laryngitis had been on such subjects, deal- 
ing largely with specters and apparitions. 
And both Aggie and I recalled later that 
she had told Emmie that the nearness of 
the graveyard would make such materiali- 
zation comparatively simple. 

But Emmie had shown more terror than 
interest in the subject, and finally Will had 
insisted that Tish abandon it for lighter 


| and more cheerful material. 


EVENING POST 


It had been seed sown in fruitful ground, 
however, as shall presently appear. 

To go back then: Will came home very 
dejected one night and said he would have 
to go away for a business trip. Emmie was 
most disagreeable about it. 

“‘And what about me?”’ she demanded. 
“Are you going to leave me here alone?”’ 

“It’s the first time I’ve left you for five 
years, Emmie,” he told her. “I'll just 
have to go. And as for being alone, haven’t 
you got Letitia here? And Lizzie and 
Aggie?”’ 

Well, I must admit that that did not seem 
to cheer her any, and the look she gave us 
was most unpleasant. But she had to let 
him go, although her last words were not 
calculated to send him away happy. 

“If anything happens to me while you 
are gone, Will,” she said, “‘you know how 
I want things done. And my black silk 
dress is in the lower bureau drawer.” 

“T can get back in six hours if I’m 
needed, Emmie,’’ he said brokenly. “A 
telegram or ——” 

“When I go I shall be snuffed out like a 
candle,’’ she told him in a cold voice. And 
with that he went away, looking as though 
he was on his way to the electric chair. 

I met Tish on the stairs after she had 
seen him off. There was a strange look on 
her face, I remembered later; but after she 
had settled Emmie for the night she took 
up her knitting quietly enough. She always 
contributes a number of knitted pairs of 
bedroom slippers to the Old Ladies’ Home 
at Christmas. 

Aggie and I retired early, taking Em- 
mie’s bell with us at Tish’s orders, so she 
could not disturb us during the night, and 
were soon fast asleep. 

But judge of our horror when, at two 
o'clock or thereabouts, we heard a dreadful 
shriek from Emmie’s room, followed by a 
strange, rushing sound. As soon as I could 
move I got out of bed and turned on the 
lights; Aggie was reaching for her teeth, 
with her eyes fixed on the door. 

“T left that door open, Lizzie,” she said 
in an agonized whisper. ‘‘Somebody’s 
closed it.”’ 

Well, it certainly was closed, and when 
I tried it, it was locked and the key was on 
the outside! And, to add to the dreadful- 
ness of our position, there was no further 
sound whatever; no whimpering from 
Emmie’s room; no sound of Tish in short 
and sharp remonstrance. No anything. 

Never have we passed through such a 
half hour as followed. That both our won- 
derful Tish and Emmie had fallen to the 
knife or other method of some deadly as- 
sassin we never doubted. And when at the 
end of that time we heard halting but in- 
evitable footsteps slowly climbing the 
staircase, both of us were certain that 
our hour had come. When they stopped 
outside the door and an unseen hand fum- 
bled with the key, Aggie gave a low moan 
and made for the window, but she was 
stopped before it was too late by the en- 
trance into the room of Tish herself! 

She was a curious dead-white color, and 
she came in limping and closed the door. 

“I'd like to borrow your tweezers, 
Lizzie,”’ she said, in a toneless sort of voice. 
“TI ran out when I heard Emmie scream, 
and I’ve got something in my foot.” 

“But Emmie!” we inquired in unison. 
‘What has happened to her?”’ 

It was a moment before she replied. 
Both Aggie and I remembered that hesita- 
tion later and that there was a hard and 
determined look on her face. But when she 
did reply, it was reassuring. 

“‘She’s all right,”’ she said. 

“But she screamed, Tish! She screamed 
horribly.” 

““You’ve heard her scream before this,” 
she said coldly. ‘“‘She says she saw a ghost. 
That’s all.” 

She went out again, and to her own room. 
She was very lame, we noticed, but calm. 
Some time later she called to Aggie to bring 
her the arnica, and Aggie did so. She re- 
ported that Tish had lost the strange 
pallor, but that she had got a number of 
thorns in her feet and was removing them. 


August 14,1926 


“She’s very quiet, Lizzie,’ Aggie said. 
“And I think she’s sprained her ankle. 
You would think she had seen the ghost, to 
look at her, and not Emmie.” 

Well, I felt uneasy myself, especially as 
something had certainly locked us in, and 
after a while I went across to Emmie’s 
room and tapped lightly at the door. It 
was Tish herself who answered from the 
other side. 

“*Get away from there, Lizzie,’’ she said 
sharply. ‘We are all right. I shall stay 
with Emmie until she is calmer.” 

The rest of the night was quiet enough. 
It was not until the next day that certain 
things began to make us uneasy. 

One of these was Emmie herself. How- 
ever lightly Tish might treat the matter, re- 
fusing to call a doctor and so on, it was 
evident that Emmie had passed through a 
terrible experience. 

She would not see anyone, even Aggie or 
myself, and she insisted on keeping her 
door closed and locked. Once in a while we 
could hear Tish reading to her, apparently 
to calm her. And she ate a little from the 
trays Tish carried up. But never once did 
she raise her voice; ordinarily when she 
wanted anything and no one answered her 
bell one could hear her shouting, from 
the main road. But she was apparently 
chastened beyond belief. 

Our real anxiety, however, was Tish her- 
self. She was in a curious nervous state; a 
thing most unusual in her. She ate nothing 
at all. And if a door slammed she would 
jump violently and turn quite pale. 

Knowing her as we did, we could only be- 
lieve that she, as well as Emmie, had seen 
the apparition, and had possibly received 
a message of some personal import. It was 
in a spirit of helpfulness, therefore, and not 
of curiosity, that we decided to remain 
awake that night to give her moral support 
if she required it. 

And that very night we saw it ourselves. 

Aggie was suffering from a bad attack of 
hay fever and had gone to the window for 
air. Suddenly I heard her whisper, “Lizzie; 
cobe here! It’s outside, od the walk!” 

I ran to the window. And there below 
us, just leaving the kitchen porch, was the 
apparition itself! It was a tall, thin, gray 
figure. And as we watched, it moved along 
through the back garden and then, on 
Aggie sneezing violently, apparently dis- 
solved. 

Although we waited for some time, it did 
not materialize again. 

In view of Tish’s curious nervous con- 
dition, we did not mention it to her. But 
we saw it for three nights in succession. 

I must admit that it made us both very 
uneasy, especially in view of Emmie’s con- 
tinued strange state. If Tish had been her 
usual buoyant self we would have gone to 
her, but she was oddly restless and un- 
easy, and once or twice we even found her 
dozing in her chair—a thing unprecedented 
with her. 

But I kept a careful record of the ap- 
pearance, and I quote from it here: 


Monday. 12 midnight. _Materialized human 
figure. Gray in color, thin in outline. Ecto- 
plasmic blanket around shoulders. 

Tuesday. 1 A.M. Same figure, but with long 
rodlike structure—See Crawford—across both 
shoulders. Figure bent, as though carrying 
weight. 

Wednesday. 12:30 a.m. Same figure, with 
misty projection around one arm, simulating 
basket or pail. 

This ends the record, for on Thursday 
Will Hartford unexpectedly came home 
and a situation developed which I cannot 
yet recall without anger and dismay. 


vir 
E HAD not expected him for some 
time, but he let himself in with his 
latchkey and came back to the kitchen 
where Aggie and I were fixing Emmie’s 
tray. He looked thin and worn. 

“How is she?”’ he asked, almost in a 
whisper. “Still ——’”’ 

“She’s still alive, if that’s what you 
mean,” I said tartly. ‘‘Look at this tray 
and judge for yourself.” 

(Continued on Page 86 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 























eS [¢s a saving habit 


easier steering, better car balance 


Calibrated in 1-lb. units—10 to 50 
lbs. Made with ball foot—easy to use 
on ANY type wheel. 

Other types for High Pressure, 
Truck and Bus Tires. 


EST all your tires, including 
the spare, at least once a week 
with a Schrader Tire Gauge. 
Friday is the best day, because 
most tires do their hardest work 
over the week-end. 
Get this “Friday testing habit” 
and enjoy longer tire service, 


and riding comfort. 

The Schrader Tire Gauge has 
been standard for years. It is 
dependable, inexpensive, easy to 
carry and use. Schrader products 
are sold by more than 100,000 
dealers throughout the world. 


A. SCHRADER’S SON, Inc., BROOKLYN, Chicago, Toronto, London 


. 











(Continued from Page 84) 

He was so relieved that he had to sit 
down and wipe his face, which was covered 
with a clammy sweat. 

“‘T just had to come back,” he said. “I 
didn’t even finish the business. What do 
money and success matter if I haven’t her 
with me to share in them?” 

He got up, however, and picked up a 
large package he had brought in. 

“T brought her some flowers,” he said. 
“T got to thinking while I was away. 
Maybe I could have done a lot of things to 
make her happy, but I’ve been too selfish 
to think of them. Well ——’”’ 

Aggie watched him go out. She still had 
her hay fever, and standing at the window 
for three nights had not improved it. 

“What I dod’t udderstad, Lizzie,” she 
said, ‘‘is why there are so bady healthy 
wobed in the world. The bed seeb to like 
theb feeble.” 

And just then Tish, on her way down- 
stairs for the tray, met Will face to face. 
She never even spoke to him. She gave 
him one awful look, and then, just as she 
was, she went out of the house. She did 
not come back for the most terrible five 
hours of my life. 

Now and then, in a nightmare, I hear 
Will carrying that box of flowers up the 
stairs and opening the door which Tish had 
forgotten to lock. And then I hear him 
give a groan and drop the box, and then 
come staggering down again like a mad- 
man, shaking both his fists at us and shout- 
ing at the top of his lungs. 

“She’s gone!” he yelled. “You've lied 
to me! She’s dead! Oh, my poor Em- 
mie, and I left you to die alone!” 

“Nonsense!”” I shouted back at him. 
“Your poor Emmie’s all right. She’s been 
eating enough for ten people right along!” 

He stopped wailing and looked at me. 

“Then where is she?” he demanded. 

“‘She’s right up in her room in bed. You 
don’t see her frying herself over this cook- 
stove, do you?” 

“She’s not in her room,” he said, still 
watching me. ‘Not unless you’ve moved 
her.” He caught me by the shoulder. 
“Have you moved her?” he shouted. 
“Have you taken my precious girl out of 
the room where she has lain helpless so 
long, and put her somewhere else? Have 
you dared ——”’ 

“Oh, take your hands off me,” I said. 
“She’s up there all right. Maybe she’s 
hiding behind the door to surprise you!” 

Well, he ran up again, and we followed 
him. But he was right. Emmie’s room 
was empty; her bed was neatly made up, 
and all the bottles on the table beside it 
had been cleared away. We could only 
stand and stare, while Will Hartford ran 
like a lunatic from room to room, peering 
into the closets and behind the doors, and 
moaning all the time. 

“Emmie,” he called over and over. 
“Emmie! It’s Will! It’s Will, darling!” 

[ tried to calm him and tell him she was 
not hanging up in a cupboard like an old 
coat, but he only turned on me savagely. 

“Where's that woman?” he cried. 
“*Where’s Letitia Carberry? I didn’t trust 
her from the start, and Emmie didn’t either. 
She has murdered my poor girl. Murdered 
her and done away with her!” 

What could we say, or do? We had to 
stand by and see him run down the stairs; 
to hear him call the local police and accuse 
our poor Tish of a heinous crime, and later 
on to remain helpless while the officers 
searched the house and the cellar, and even 
dropped a searchlight down into the well. 
And still no Tish. They would not even 
let us leave the house to search for her, 
although I did manage to get Charlie 
Sands on the telephone before they stopped 
me. 

“Come at once,” I said. 
terrible trouble.” 

“Naturally,” he said, without excite 
ment. “Shall I bring bail money or a doc- 
tor?” 

But I could hear him whistle softly when 
I told him that Tish was accused of a mur- 
der. 


“We are in 





THE SATURDAY 


It was seven o’clock by that time and 
growing dark. Waiting by a window, we 
watched for our poor Tish, but time went 
on and she did not come. Eight o’clock. 
Nine. Ten. Never once did our loyalty 
waver, but, on the other hand, what about 
the past four days? What about that locked 
door into Emmie’s room and the trays 
that went up, while Tish ate nothing at 
the table? What about that horrible scream 
and Tish’s strange pallor afterward? 

“‘Baybe Tish gave ger the wrog bedicide,”’ 
Aggie whispered to me, ‘‘ad she died be- 
cause of it, so Tish had to ——”’ 

But the policeman was watching us, and 
I motioned her to be silent. 

The house was full of people by that 
time. Two or three doctors were working 
with Will upstairs. And some neighbors 
had come in and were digging a hole in the 
cellar. All they found was the still Will had 
buried there, but the horrible sound of their 
spades about drove me crazy. And still 
Tish did not come. 

Charlie Sands arrived at eleven o’clock. 
They were bringing the still up the cellar 
stairs just as he got there. And he seemed 
quite calm and not at all worried. 

“For some reason that reminds me,” he 
said, “‘that a little blackberry cordial would 
not go amiss. I’ve had a long trip.” 

And not until he had had a generous dose 
of this tonic did he make a statement which 
set the whole house in a turmoil. 

“By the way,” he said, “if you want 
Miss Carberry, she will be here in a few 
moments. She would have arrived sooner, 
but one of the garage men had taken her 
car out for a joy ride and she is waiting, to 
use her own words, to give him a piece of 
her mind.”’ 

Ix 
EVER shall I forget the scene when 
Tish arrived, and, walking quietly into 
the hall, asked for a cup of tea, as she had 
had no supper. Will, supported by two of 
the doctors, was waiting on the stairs, and 
he tried to throw himself at her. 

“Supper!” he screeched. ‘‘You—you 
murderess! What have you done with her? 
Let me loose! I want to kill her,” he 
shouted. 

But Tish paid no attention to him what- 
ever. So far as she was concerned he might 
not have been there. 

“With a little cinnamon toast, too, 
Aggie,’”’ she said. ‘‘I’m about famished.”’ 

“‘She’s brazen!” cried Will. ‘‘She’s in- 
sane! Where is Emmie, Tish Carberry?” 

She looked at him as if she saw him for 
the first time. 

‘Oh, Emmie!”’ she said. ‘‘ Well, that’s a 
long story. Now, Aggie, do I get tea, or do 
I not?” 

Well, they were obliged to wait, for it was 
clear she would tell them nothing until she 
was ready. They had to lock Will in a room 
until she had had it, however, and, although 
the men who had been digging in the cellar 
had stopped work, they still held onto their 
spades. They were certain they would have’ 
to dig somewhere. 

But at last she had finished, and they 
brought Will down again and confronted 
her with him again. She gave him a long, 
hard look, and then she smiled. 

“You're a fool, Will Hartford,” she said 
calmly, ‘‘and your poor helpless Emmie 
knows it. That’s why she’s helpless.” 

“I know a murderess when I see one, 
said Will. 

“* As to her being helpless,’’ Tish went on 
inexorably, “let me tell you that, in spite 
of her total paralysis, she placed herself 
where you will find her, and has since re- 
mained there of her own free will.” 


” 


EVENING POST 


“‘That’s a lie at the start,” said Will. 
“She can’t walk a step, and you know it. 
Officers, if that woman gets out of this 
house she will atternpt to escape. It’s a 
ruse on her part. She’s got a car at the 
door.” 

Tish sighed. 

‘Well, I’ve done my best for you, Will,” 
she told him. ‘Personally, I don’t care 
whether Emmie is found or not. If I have 
a preference, it is for the latter. But I’ll 
take you to her and the rest is up to you.” 

I don’t believe any of them believed her. 
Will Hartford, indeed, demanded handcuffs 
for her, but she only sat down quietly and 
refused to stir if they used them. And when 
someone said she ought to be in jail on gen- 
eral principles, she merely replied placidly 
that jails were no novelty to her. 

In the end they agreed to let her go free, 
and she rose briskly and started out the 
kitchen door. It was a strange procession, 
indeed, and a silent one, for that had been 
Tish’s condition. 

“One unnecessary sound,” she said, 
“and I stop. Later on I shall place you all 
at a point of observation, and I shall ask 
for silence.” 

In the hall she had picked up a parcel she 
had brought in with her, and she took it 
with her. The police were suspicious of it, 
but on their threatening to open it she at 
once turned back, and they were com- 
pelled to let it alone. 

As I look back I can still see that strange 
group—Will broken and supported by a 
doctor on each side, three policemen, six 
neighbors, mostly armed with spades, and 
ourselves. And in the lead our dear Tish, 
with no evidence of guilt about her, but 
rather as one who has done a good and 
worthy deed. She moved swiftly, as though 
she knew the way well, up through the pas- 
ture behind the house and through a grove 
of trees, until at the other side we could 
dimly discern a small cabin, and a light 
shining through the window. 

Here Tish stopped and addressed us. 

““We have come a half mile,” she said. 
‘Mrs. Hartford may tell you that she was 
brought here while unconscious, but she 
came here on two perfectly healthy legs. I 
know, because I followed her. And she 
came rapidly,’’ she added, with what I felt 
was a certain significance. ‘‘Now I have 
one request to make. You will stay here 
until I have reached the cabin; then you 
will come to the window as silently as pos- 
sible.” 

They let her go, and we did as she had 
requested. But never, so long as I live, 
shall I forget the sight that greeted us as we 
stared through that window. 

The cabin was bare, save for a folding 
cot bed, a candle on a shelf, a box for a chair 
and an old cooking stove with some utensils 
on it. And lying on the cot, in a dressing 
gown over her nightdress, was Will’s Em- 
mie. She was scowling frightfully, and when 
Tish opened the door she nearly jumped 
down her throat. 

“Do you know what time it is?’’ she de- 
manded furiously. ‘‘And that I’ve had 
nothing to eat since breakfast?” 

‘I left you plenty for all day,”’ Tish told 
her. “‘And you know you can get plenty 
more if you decide to come home.” 

“I’m not walking back, if that’s what 
you mean,’”’ Emmie snapped. 

“Very well, but you are walking to this 
cookstove if you want any supper,” Tish 
said, and sat down on the box. “If you 
could run a half mile you can walk ten 
feet.” 

I think Will would have broken away 
then and there, but Charlie Sands took hold 














August 14, 1926 


of him. And the next minute Emmie got 
off that cot and walked across the room. 
She was in a frightful humor, for she 
slapped a frying pan onto the stove, opened 
the package, and said: ‘‘Bacon again! I 
hope I never see.another pig!’’ and began 
to cook a meal for herself in a most able- 
bodied but infuriated manner. 

And she ate bread and butter over the 
stove while the meat was frying! 

Tish only spoke once while this was going 
on. 
“It’s a pity poor Will can’t see you now,” 
she said. 

“Tf he was here I wouldn’t be having to 
do this,”’ she snapped. 

“No,” said Tish. “The poor fool must 
like to be deceived. It’s my experience 
that the weaker a man is the more he likes 
to have something helpless around him. It 
makes him feel strong and protective.” 

Well, Will made a noise at that, and 
Emmie suddenly threw up her head and 
‘listened. 

‘“Who’s out there?”’ she said in a dread- 
ful voice. 

“Only Will and two or three policemen 
and a few neighbors,”’ Tish told her calmly. 
“They’re all glad you are well again, and 
can take your place in the ——’”’ 

But at that Emmie simply leaped at her, 
and the next moment Will Hartford was 
inside, pulling her off our poor Tish and 
holding her so her blows would do no 
damage. And then he put his arms around 
her and glared at Tish as if she had been 
the one to blame. 

“Leave!” he said. “Begone! To what 
brutality you have submitted my poor wife 
I have yet to learn. But the law is not 
through. Not yet. Nor am I.” 

But Tish only stared at him with a faint 
and sardonic smile. 

“Oh, yes, you are,” she told him. 
“You’re through. You’re as through as 
you can be. I tried to save you, but you 
wouldn’t be saved.” 

And with that didn’t Emmie suddenly 
cry out, “Oh, my poor legs! There’s no 
feeling in them! It’s come again.” 

And she sagged in his arms, just exactly 
as paralyzed as ever! 


No, as Tish has often said, there is no 
moral to this tale. Emmie is still paralyzed, 
but people get what they want in this 
world, and if they want a helpless woman 
she’s about the easiest thing there is to 
obtain. 

But it has been necessary to relate it as 
accurately as possible, because of the 
stories that have been going round. 

Tish certainly never dreamed that 
Emmie would leave the house. All she 
meant to do by playing ghost was to prove 
that she was not paralyzed at all, but had 
two perfectly good legs. 

But Emmie’s legs were even better than 
Tish had expected. She says, and I have 
never known her to exaggerate, that Emmie 
never went down the stairs at all, but 
leaped over the stair rail. And when Tish 
tried to catch her, because she was in her 
nightgown and the night was cool, the silly 
fool simply kept on running. 

It was daylight the next morning when 
Tish finally located her in the cabin. But 
the chances are that Emmie saw her com- 
ing, for when Tish went in she was lying 
on the floor with her eyes closed, and she 
only opened them when Tish shook her. 

Then she stared around feebly and said, 
“‘Where am I? And how did I get here?”’ 

She would not walk back, and Tish knew 
it was hopeless from that minute. 

As I have said, there is no moral what- 
ever to this story. The nearest I can come 
to it is that couplet Tish secured by auto- 
matic writing the other day: 


“There swims no goose so gray but soon or 
late 
She finds some honest gander for her mate.” 


And even there, as dear Tish so aptly re- 
marks, there is a question. For how honest 
is a man who wants those about him to be 
weak so he can feel strong? 












© Mueller Co 


Do noisy faucets 
arouse you in the night? > 


.-- look to the VITAL SPOTS 


Your merchant plumber and Mueller Fau- 


cets are old friends. He likes to be able 
to use them when people want his best 
work. He knows he will point with pride 
for many years to his Mueller Faucet in- 
stallations. Ask him for cost and other 
data on Mueller Faucets and Mueller 
Automatic Hot Water Control systems. 
He can quickly get any Mueller Product 
from the more than 300 Mueller jobbers 
that are located throughout the United 
States and Canada. 


’ * 4 « 


Consult your architect in regard to the 

Vital Spots of plumbing. He knows 

Mueller Faucets are dependable and will 

be glad to approve your desire to have 
them ee 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Do you live in a house of leaky, 
gurgling faucets? Do you know 
the misery of being awakened 
every so often by a turmoil of 
hideous faucet groans? 


Faucets that “murder” sleep are 
an easily avoidable nuisance. 
The whole trouble can be cor- 
rected within a few hours’ time. 


Spend no money in trying to 
rejuvenate worn-out faucets. 
You will find it cheaper in the 
end to replace all the old un- 
manageable noise-makers with 
modern Mueller Faucets— 
silent, efficient guardians of 
plumbing’s Vital Spots. 


Mueller Faucets are made with 
a real conception of the purpose 
of faucets. For sixty-nine years 
the Mueller people have given 









the best of their skill to making 
faucets ever better and better. 


They look upon faucets as what 
they actually are—the Vital Spots 
of a plumbing system. They de- 
sign and make them with a hun- 
dred thousand trouble possibil- 
ities provided for in advance. 


That is why Mueller Faucets— 
the last word in appearance and 
service—perform their functions 
so satisfactorily, why they allow 
you to get out of your water 
pressure all that it can give. 


Better hot water systems 


You will find in Mueller Automatic 
Hot Water Control an improved 
system that forever supersedes the 
obsolete expansion tank. This bet- 
ter system deserves your careful 
consideration. 


MUELLER CO. (Established 1857) Factories: Decatur, Illinois; Port Huron, Michigan 


Branches: New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles 


Canadian Factory: MUELLER, Limited, Sarnia 


“® MUELLER FAUCETS . 


1926 


faucets without a fault 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14, 1926 








pores is a beauty soap made solely for one purpose; 
to foster good complexions. 


In France, home of cosmetics, Palmolive is the second largest 
selling soap, and has supplanted French soaps by the score. In 
beauty-wise Paris, Palmolive is the “imported” soap. 


Remember those facts when tempted to risk an unproved soap 
on your skin. 





























— we — 
“ ~ = SER Fe . = 
LS SSS Wake SBA rau a A asssSSS| ee 
SSUy/! Ni) IN ANN WN Rp” RS re SSS ~ 


“Ae Sy nage 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


“Gee! Mother—but youre pretty” 


In his heart, every boy wants to think this of 


his mother—give him the right to do so by safe- 


guarding your youth 


HE cares of Motherhood and of life—don’t let them 

rob you of your youth. Thousands will tell you that 
you needn't. Due to correct skin care, the charm of 
schoolgirl days now is carried past the thirties and well 
into the forties. 


The method is one any woman can easily follow— 
natural ways in complexion care; the discarding of the 
artificial ways of yesterday. Leading beauty authorities 
have learned that the preservation of youth probably 
rests chiefly on proper cleansing of the skin. 

For that reason, the soothing lather of olive and 
palm oils, used in the following way, is the most widely 
followed beauty care in the world today. 


The rule and how to follow it 


Wash your face gently with soothing Palmolive 
Soap, massaging the lather softly into the skin. Rinse 
thoroughly, first with warm water, then with cold. If 
your skin is inclined to be dry, apply a touch of good 
cold cream—that is all. Do this regularly, and partic- 
ularly in the evening. Use powder and rouge if you 


in this simple way: 


wish. But never leave them on over night. They clog 
the pores, often enlarge them. Blackheads and disfig- 
urements often follow. They must be washed away. 


Avoid this mistake 


Do not use ordinary soaps in the treatment given 
above. Do not think any green soap, or one represented 
as of olive and palm oils, is the same as Palmolive. 

And it costs but 10c the cake! So little that millions 
let it do for their bodies what it does for their faces. 
Obtain a cake today. Then note what an amazing 
difference one week makes. 


Soap f rom trees! 


The only oils in Palmolive Soap are the soothing 
beauty oils from the olive tree, the African palm, and 
the coconut palm—and no other fats whatsoever. 
That is why Palmolive Soap is the natural color that 
it is—for palm and olive oils, nothing else, give 
Palmolive its natural green color. 

The only secret to Palmolive is its exclusive blend— 
and that is one of the world’s priceless beauty secrets. 


THE PALMOLIVE COMPANY (Del. Corp.), CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 


Palmolive Soap is untouched by 
human hands until you break the 
wrapper—it is never sold unwrapped 


Retail . 
Price 





THE 


Health may become a shadow 


y 
WwW JMEN who are truly popular frankly ac- 
knowledge this simple fact—glorious, radiant 
health is their most valued charm. And still, 
daily, thousands risk this priceless gift for lack 
of this new knowledge of The Danger Line. 


This vou should know 
The causes of heart trouble, rheumatism, kidney 
trouble, nervous disorders often puzzled physi- 
cians. But modern science has lately discovered 
that often be traced back to 
decayed teeth and diseased gums. 


these diseases may 


This is why: The teeth share in the blood supply. 
The same circulatory system which supplies them 
with nourishment and carries off their waste also 
comes into contact with every part of the body. 
When poisonous substances and disease germs are 
carried away from neglected teeth and lodged in 
some other tissue or organ, that place in which the 
poison 1S left also becomes diseased. 

Guard The Danger Line 
Many serious dental troubles start at The Danger 
Line--where teeth and gums meet. The rounded 
diges of the gums form tiny V-shaped crevices 
there. Food particles collect in these crevices. 
Then they ferment, and acids are formed that 


unless you guard The 


‘“~ 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


Danger 


OME Women 


. 


£0 everywhere, 
—others Wish 


cause decay of the teeth and that irritate the gums. 

There is one dentifrice today that gives protec- 
tion from this danger. It is Squibb’s Dental 
Cream, made with Squibb’s Milk of Magnesia. 
For Milk of Magnesia is recommended by dentists 
everywhere as a perfect means of neutralizing the 
acids in the mouth. 

Squibb’s protects after use 

Squibb’s Dental Cream contains over 50 per cent 
of Squibb’s Milk of Magnesia. It reaches all 
those tiny pits and crevices on your teeth which 
are inaccessible to any tooth-brush. There it 
remains, neutralizing destructive acids, prevent 
ing decay, reducing the peril of Pyorrhea, safe- 
guarding the health and vigor of your entire system. 

Make your teeth and gums safe from the shadow 
of The Danger Line. Use Squibb’s Dental Cream 
night and morning. -See your dentist twice a year. 
You will be safeguarded from decay and its threat 
of disease and attendant misery. At all druggists’ 
—only 40 cents for a large tube. 


> 6¢ 


do everything 
and wonder... 


In almost any drug store you will find 20, 30, even 40, different 
kinds of dentifrices. Many people buy these dentifrices ... 
changing from one to another. They seem disappointed. They 
brush their teeth regularly ... yet they still have decay and gum 
diseases .. . Wuy? 

Because teeth need more than brushing. They must be protected 
at The Danger Line. Try this simple test: Tonight, just before 
going to bed, take a tablespoonful of Squibb’s Milk of Magnesia 
in water, swallow a part of it—and use the rest to swish about the 
mouth and as a gargle. You will be surprised in the morning t 
find how clean and sweet your mouth feels. The Milk of Magnesia 
will not only have neutralized the acids in your mouth, but sweet- 
ened your stomach also. The same result may be obtained using 
Squibb’s Dental Cream—it contains over 50 per cent Squibb’s 
Milk of Magnesia. © ig26 


SQUIBBS 


DENTAL CREAM 


Cont 


Ains OVEY Jif ly per ceni OJ 
Ax 7a “AA - 
SGUIDD' MM, b a4 A ] Vi Gilt ‘te 





was being sent by radio might see it 
coming and deflect it by turning toward it 
a powerful transmitter. By an ingenious 
and final locking system, Hammond makes 
it possible to operate a switch—when the 
torpedo has gone a certain distance—that 
will render it impervious to any radio con- 
trol. 

Thus it must fly straight on to its desti- 
nation. Not even Hammond himself could 
stop it or call it back. 

Hammond has for some time been en- 
gaged on a system of remote control of 
trains. This works so that if a train runs 
past a block signal, radio stops it regardless 
of what the engineer does. In connection 
with this line of experimentation, a sad 
incident happened last November. G. Y. 
Allen, of the Westinghouse Company, a 
clever investigator, who had been working 
on the remote control of trains through the 
radio block system, went to Washington to 
attend a conference. When he was coming 
back another train crashed into the one in 
which he was riding and killed him. If the 
invention upon which he was spending all 
his time had been in force the accident 
probably would not have happened. 

Speaking of accidents, although it wasn’t 
the same kind at all, I am reminded of 
something that happened recently when 
short-wave experiments were being con- 
ducted by Alexanderson in Schenectady. 
His station was sending short waves to 
Riverhead, Long Island. For the purpose 
of recording the signal strength, certain in- 
struments of measurement are used. When 
these were brought out on this particular 
day, no strength showed at all. Evidently 
something had broken down. 


Illustrious Boy Inventors 


Alexanderson’s’ assistants examined 
everything. No, nothing was wrong. The 
signals should be going over well—only 
they weren’t. Just as Schenectady was 
about to telegraph apologies to Riverhead, 
Riverhead telegraphed that the signals 
were coming in stronger than usual. When 
Alexanderson looked over the h: k-up he 
found the antenne hooked wrong. 

The result was that, .nstead of the usual 
vertical wave, a horizontal wave was going 
out. These waves are now in practical use 
for talking to South America. 

I hope I have not, in speakirg of the 
thousands of unavailable .1ventions con- 
ceived by amateurs, given the impression 
that the amateur is not of immeasurable 
value to the art of radio. On the contrary, 
he has played a great part, and witnout him 
we should never have gone so far today. 

In the first place, the amateur of one day 
has frequently become the professional of 
the next. Radio has grown so rapidly that 


THE SATURDAY 


RADIO 


(Continued from Page 25 


it has used up professionals at a ravenous 
rate. When there are no more professionals 
available, the reservoir of amateurs must be 
drawn upon; and in a number of cases this 
has happened, particularly in the assem- 
bling of the radio personnel of the Navy 
during the recent war. 

The amateur is of value, too, because he 
conceives and often begins striking experi- 
ments which professionals can carry on. In 
the short-wave field especially he has done 
good work both in stimulating interest and 
in working out the machinery of experi- 
mentation. Among illustrious amateurs 
who have become professionals we may 
mention Marconi, E. H. Armstrong, J. V. 
L. Hogan, Hiram Percy Maxim, Alfred 
Goldsmith, Frank Conrad, and many 
others. 


The Institute of Radio Engineers 


The American boy is the greatest ama- 
teur of all—great in the sense that he is the 
eager, intrepid seeker for new adventures. 
He has made an appreciable contribution to 
radio lore in the way of isolated facts which 
later have been coérdinated by trained 
minds. There is no doubt that the scope of 
the American scientist will increase with 
the gain in scientific precision of thought 
brought about by millions of boys getting 
interested in something that makes them 
think. 

In this connection it is interesting that 
many of our most important inventors be- 
gan to invent while they were still boys. 
Armstrong, as we have already seen, had 
perfected one of his most important devices 
before he was out of college. Marconi him- 
self made many important experiments 
while in his teens. Hogan was another of 
the college-boy inventors. Langmuir is 
said to have had a laboratory of some kind 
since he was eleven years old. Dubilier be- 
gan to work on his condenser while he was 
still selling newspapers. His invention dis- 
placed the condenser then used—in the 
form of a fragile jar—by a compact and ro- 
bust device which does the work of several 
of those jars. 

We must not leave the subject of radio 
aids without mentioning the Institute of 
Radio Engineers, now fourteen years old. 
This is one of the leading engineering organi- 
zations in the world and one of the greatest 
existing forces for promoting radio. It was 
formed first as a Boston group and called 
the Society of Wireless Telegraph Engi- 
neers. As befitted Boston, it was exclusive 
and staid. New York had the Wireless In- 
stitute, and when each society had accumu- 
lated a good many debts and difficulties, a 
scheme was set on foot to unite them. A 
combination name was evolved and the or- 
ganization grew rapidly from a few dozen to 











PYRIGHT BY W. R. MAC ASKILL, HALIFAX, CANADA 





A Scene on the Nova Scotia Coast 


EVENING POST 


UUU members, with sections in nearly all 
t} r t 


ne large 


The institute now publishes each year al- 


most 1000 pages of scientific material here 
and abroad At its meetings engineers 
speak on new discoveries and methods. 


Practically every radio imprevement of any 
importance has come before this organiza- 
tion prior to its presentation to the world. 

The institute is noncommercial and de- 
votes itself to nonpartisan activities such as 
standardization, measurements, and the 
like. In view of the fact that radio has been 
called the young man’s game, because of 
the youth of many of its executives, it is 
interesting to know that the average age of 
members of the Institute of Radio Engi- 
neers is ten years below that of any other 
group of engineering men. 

The regulation of radio broadcasting was 
accomplished from the first by a sort of 
gentlemen’s agreement which is unlike any- 
thing ever known before. It was obvious 
from the start that an enterprise which ex- 
pected to give such direct service to the 
public must be subject to certain rules 
which should conserve that ideal. To work 
out these rules in definite form, the Depart- 
ment of Commerce, in 1922, called together 
representatives of the industry. 





A Program of Self-Rule 


Secretary Hoover explained the need and 
appointed those present an advisory body, 
asking them to make recommendations as 
to how they thought the matter could best 
be handled. In 1923 he called them into 
conference again, for as radio had grown, so 
had the problems. All broadcasting waves 
were originally 360 meters, because that 
number was between two ship waves, 300 
and 450; but by the time of the second con- 
ference the number of stations had so in- 
creased that interference was intolerable 
It was evident that a new wave zone must 
be opened up. 

Secretary Hoover's unofficial advisory 
committee suggested that the 360-meter 
wave length for all stations be abolished 
and that a 220 to 550 meter zone be opened. 
The committee also proposed regulations 
for assigning frequencies. When Secretary 
Hoover looked upon these plans he pro- 
nounced them good and said he would 
adopt them. 

He also decided that radio should rule it- 
self, with the fewest possible restrictions 
The result of the unusual experiment has 
justified his confidence. The assigning of 
wave lengths, the granting of broadcasting 
licenses and the general oversight of the in- 
dustry has fallen under the province of the 
Department of Commerce, but the inner 
government has gone on largely of itself. 

Continued on Page 94 












BI-SPUN 


HOSIERY FOR. MEN 
wa development 


that had to come 


s ~~ remarkable age that has 
made such progre SS in manu- 
facturing has brought forth a new 
and amazing development 

H tery that 1 Livi 1bly r¢ inforced 


above the snoe-iine as well as at 


, } 
heel aiid toe. 


Think of it! No more mad 
scrambling through a drawer full 
of socks, prayerfully hoping to find 
just one present ible pair one 


pair that has no visible holes. 


The an ig new Bi-S process « ’ 
nens \ nrea withou i k 
r thick Phe res i nart, 
heer \ variet f materi: 
isterly-s | rns — hosiery tha 
our own expe: 
at 
\ Bi-S lr wosiery a 
nN x i 
ellieva I 





he 
Negiected 
rea 





Crimax Hosiery Mitts 
Founded 1902 ATHENS, GEORGIA 
New York Offices 366 Broadway 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


MORE POWER AND SUPERIOR QUALITY 


$9 5 Job NEW STAR SIX 
os Five Passenger Standard Sedan 
Lansing —4 wide doors, head room, leg 


room; bronze green lacquer fin- 


HAYES-HUNT BODY _ ish,black moulding, gold stripe. 


New Star Six 


CHASSIS. . . . $650 
TOURING .. . 725 
Cum «<< « »« G20 
CORRE 3 «+ « + 880 
DE LUXE SPORT 
ROADSTER . . 910 


STANDARD 
SEDAN... +. 995 
LANDAU SEDAN 995 


Prices f. o. b. Lansing 


LEADING IN DOLLAR VALUE 


RICE ALONE identifies the New Star 

Six as a low-priced car. In appearance 
it is distinctive anywhere—long stream 
lines, beautiful color combinations, lacquer 
finish. Hayes-Hunt bodies provide a stand- 
ard of coachwork ordinarily associated with 
high-priced cars. In power,speed, flexibility, 
economy and all ’round performance the 
New Star Six is pre-eminent. And now— 
more than ever before—you owe it to your- 
self to investigate this quality automobile 
and learn why it is called the world’s great- 
est dollar-for-dollar value among light sixes. 


DURANT MOTORS, INC. 
250 West 57th Street 
New York City 


General Sales Department 
1819 Broadway 
New York City 











Low-cost Transportation 


Star 


GROWING IN PUBLIC FAVOR 


AY after day, from coast to coast, the 

Improved Star Four continues to grow 
in Public favor. It has gained a reputation 
among motor car owners as the most power- 
ful and economical low-priced Four. And 
now, in line with the policy of constant im- 
provement, the Improved Star Four offers 
additional refinements that even more def- 
initely establish its supremacy. Nothing less 
than a visit to a Star Car showroom can prove 
to you its superiority in design and coachwork 
—nothing less than a demonstration can fully 
acquaint you with its superior performance. 





Improved Star Four 
COM. CHASSIS. $470 


ROADSTER. . . 540 
TOURING .. . 540 
COUPE ...- «- 675 
COACH .... @5 
SEDAN ... +. 7S 


Prices f. o. b. Lansing 


Plants: 
Elizabeth, N.J. Lansing, Mich. 
Oakland, Cal. Toronto, Ont. 
Dealers and Service stations 


throughout the United States, 
Canada and Mexico. 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


$ f. o. b. 
Lansing 


HAYES-HUNT BODY 


















IMPROVED STAR FOUR 


Five Passenger Coach—extra 
wide doors, roomy seats; Persian 
blue lacquer, black molding, 


gold stripe; nickel radiator shell 


MORE POWER AND SUPERIOR QUALITY 






(TECTOMOTOR 


Perfect Positive Protection 
‘Worlds Greatest Motor Necessity 


Protectomotor alone removes all the 
dust, sand and grit, both fine and 
coarse particles, from the air supplied 
to the moter. 


That is why Protectomotor alone 
reduces wear 75% to 85% and enables 
the motor to function smoothly three 
to five times as long before it is 
necessary to grind valves, remove 


carbon or overhaul the motor. 


Protectomotor is attached directly to 
It is 
different in design and action from all 


the air intake of the carburetor. 


other devices used as equipment on 
passenger cars or trucks for the same 
purpose and is the only one that is an 
actual air filter. 


By actual tests it has been shown that 
100 times more dirt will get into your 
motor through an ordinary air cleaner 
than will pass through Protectomotor. 


In addition to reducing wear Protecto- 
motor reduces carben which is made 
up largely of dust. It means cleaner 
oil and, consequently, more perfect 


lubrication. 


Despite the fact that Protectomotor 
is 100 times more efficient than an 
ordinary air cleaner it costs only a 
If you are buying a new 
car or truck equipped with an ordinary 
air cleaner it will be to your advan- 
tage to pay this slight difference and 
If your 
present car does not carry Protecto- 
and obtain the 
additional mileage from your engine 
that only Protectomotor can give. 


trifle more. 


insist upon Protectomotor. 


motor get one now 


If your dealer cannot supply you write 
us, giving make and model of car and 
carburetor. Satisfaction guaranteed. 








STAYNEW FILTER 
CORPORATION 


Rochester, N. Y. 








THE SATURDAY 


(Continued from Page 91) 

By 1923 stations had begun to multiply. 
WJZ followed KDKA inte the field in Octo- 
ber, 1921. WEAF was opened a little later. 
By this time the dream of 1918 seemed at 
last to be taking on real substance. An 
entire new world of entertainment and in- 
struction was being discovered. Singers, 
pianists, violinists, ministers, lecturers and 
actors were performing before the little 
microphone, and were being heard not only 
in their own but in surrounding cities. 

A feature that early drew the man of the 
house toward what at first he was inclined 
to regard as a plaything was the prospect 
of hearing descriptions of his favorite ath- 
letic events broadcast by expert announc- 
ers. The pioneer in this field, so far as I 
know, was J. Andrew White, who, on July 2, 
1921, announced the Dempsey-Carpentier 
fight from the ringside in Jersey City. 

White worked out a scheme to equip 
theaters throughout the Middle Atlantic 
States to receive a blow-by-blow descrip- 
tion of the battle, which he sent by way of a 
temporary station constructed at Hoboken. 
He had to use makeshift paraphernalia and 
trust to luck. Two nights before the fight 
he called me up. 

‘*Well, I’m in the soup,” he announced 
cheerfully. ‘‘So far, we haven’t been able 
to get a sound to register beyond Newark. 


We are averaging a complaint a minute. 


just now.” 

That night, with White sick from worry, 
whatever was wrong with his transmission 
system—and he doesn’t know to this day 
what that was—righted itself and his 
patrons were able to assure those to whom 
they had sold tickets for listening-in to the 
event that the show would come off as 
planned. 

My remembrance of that fight is vivid. I 
went with White to his place at the ring- 
side. It was a torrid day and we all fried 
slowly in the sun. White was dripping with 
perspiration and his throat was parched. In 
the excitement a boy who had been brought 
along expressly to supply him with iced 
water forgot all about his duty, and when 
White, who could not speak except in his 
role of announcer, signaled for the vacuum 
bottle containing the precious fluid, the boy 
merely cried, “‘ Yes, ain’t it a bully fight!”’ 


A Well-Timed Smash 


An exciting feature of the day for radio 
was that one news agency scooped the 
whole journalistic world by wireless. The 
reporter who had been listening to White 
at a downtown office flashed the word of 
Dempsey’s victory by radio to Paris, and in 
spite of the many cables which had been 
leased by powerful newspapers, beat every- 
body by thirty-three seconds. 

As a dramatic ending to the fight, the 
very instant that White finished pronounc- 
ing the words, ‘‘ Dempsey remains the cham- 
pion of the world,” his transmitting set 
went smash. He could’not have sent an- 
other syllable over it. 

It was estimated that nearly 400,000 per- 
sons attended the Dempsey-Carpentier 
fight by proxy. This number seems in- 
finitesimal in view of the millions who 
would listen-in on a similar event now, but 
it was a high-water mark for those days and 
pointed the way to the prospective popu- 
larity of at least one kind of broadcasting. 

Among WJZ’s earliest broadcasting stars 
were Marguerite Namara, Johanna Gadski, 
Marie Sundelius, Marie Rappold, Frieda 
Hempel, Cecil Arden, Perey Grainger and 
Lydia Lipkowska. At the invitation of 
station directors, these great artists came 
half timidly, half eagerly to perform before 
an invisible audience. Nearly all of them 
were accustomed to making records and it 
would seem ‘hat the microphone could hold 
no terrorsforthem. Yetitdid. Many who 
had long since forgotten the meaning of 
stage fright trembled before the little round 
disk which represented a vast unseen audi- 
ence, 

Mike fright originated with the first 
broadcaster. There is something terrifying 
in the utter silence, the total lack of facility 


EVENING POST 


for determining what the audience is like, 
that often robs a veteran speaker or musi- 


cian momentarily of all his mental control. . 


The announcers say that men are harder 
hit than women. 

Some of the bravest among political 
speakers have gone down before that awe- 
some velvety stillness. Mike McTigue, at 
that time light-heavyweight champion of 
the world, was bathed in perspiration be- 
fore he finished a five-minute talk over the 
radio in the early days. Capt. René Fonck, 
French ace of aces, who brought down 
seventy-five enemy planes, was seized with 
a nervous chill when he was put before the 
microphone. 

Eddie Rice, violinist and first person to 
broadcast over station WGY at Schenec- 
tady, discovered a novel way to assuage his 
panicky nerves. He closed his eyes and 
kept them closed all the time he was playing. 

Madam Gadski was one of the calmest 
broadcasters. She composedly folded her 
hands and said, “‘ Well, let’s begin!”’ If she 
was trembling inwardly, not even the an- 
nouncer knew it. 


Sincere Appreciation 


Lydia Lipkowska, excited and exalted, 
related a dream of her childhood while she 
waited her turn to go on the air. ‘Many 
times when I was a little girl, I dreamed 
that some day I should sing before an audi- 
ence more vast than any that could be 
gathered into the largest concert hall,’”’ she 
said. “‘Over and over I have seen myself 
singing to this great throng. Only, I did 
not know that when the time came I 
should not be able to see them face to 
face.” 

The performances of these musicians 
brought hundreds of letters from listeners-in. 
These came from farm and city, desert and 
frozen waste. The ecstasy of fulfilled long- 
ing they revealed surprised and _half- 
saddened the artists and their sponsors. 
The bedridden, the isolated and the de- 
spondent vied in praising the new voices of 
the air. A lonesome boy in Labrador, shut 
away from any human contact for months 
by glittering stretches of ice and snow, with 
only his dogs for company, was amazed 
and thrilled by the voice which came to 
him out of the night, singing The Snow 
Maiden. 

A woman who had studied to be a con- 
cert pianist, but had become a paralytic 
before her debut, heard good music, she 
said, for the first time in six years. A man 
who had made unfortunate investments 
contemplated suicide and was saved, he 
vowed, by hearing an old favorite of his 
mother’s sung over the radio. These and 
similar tales, almost too fantastic to be re- 
lated, came through the mails as fact 
stories to the radio station. 

Babies were named for stations; and so, 
incidentally, were cows, chickens and pigs 
on remote farms. After the bedtime story 
became popular, one station had a letter 
from a listener in Canada, who said: “ Please 
ask the bedtime story-teller not to tell any 
more stories about bears. We really have 
bears up here and the children meet them 
on the way to school. It frightens them to 
hear that bears sometimes eat boys and 
girls.” 

In the meantime, with the new fad tak- 
ing hold upon the public imagination, 
manufacturers saw a chance to get rich 
quick. Following the war, it had seemed 
as if everyone who could turn a lathe, and 
even some who couldn’t, had rushed pell- 
mell into the radio industry, regardless of 
patents, fitness or experience. At one time 
in this country more than 3000 manufac- 
turers of wireless supplies and equipment 
were listed, and the public apparently ac- 
cepted anything offered in the name of 
radio. 

The situation was to be expected. In 
every new industry there are those who 
build for permanency upon the solid basis 
of safe financing and continued experimen- 
tation, and others who ride in upon the 
crest of high finance, craving a hectic in- 
dustrial life, even if a short one. 


August 14,1926 


By tne spring of 1925 the market was 
flooded with inferior radio products. What 
happened was inevitable. Poor receiving 
equipment disorganized trade outlets and 
inadequate broadcasting programs con- 
tributed to a temporary loss of public in- 
terest in the radio. 

When the flood of liquidation had sub- 
sided, many unsound elements had been 
swept away and there remained a wiser and 
a better industry. 

Those who had attempted to roll into 
one the periods of experimentation, devel- 
opment and stability met economic retri- 
bution. The same thing has happened in 
other industries. It had happened not so 
very long before to the automobile. 

During the period of maladjustment, 
too, the radio ceased to be a novelty to 
artists as well as audience. Musicians who 
had been anxious to give their services for 
the sake of the extraordinary publicity they 
could get, now hung back, claiming that 
free radio appearances hurt the box-office 
receipts at pay concerts. 

Owners of theaters and concert halls who 
up to this time had been glad to place their 
stars before the microphone, complained 
that the radio was killing business. Phono- 
graph companies joined in the general oppo- 
sition. Even the newspapers looked slightly 
askance at a strange, still-untested rival. 

The public cried that the radio was be- 
coming commercialized; that the programs 
were mere advertisements for this tooth 
paste and that safety razor, and uninterest- 
ing to boot. It was a time of general dis- 
affection, and if there had not been staunch 
enthusiasts and optimists in the business, 
the setback would have been more serious. 
With these stout hearts hanging on grimly 
to hopes of better days, the development of 
radio continued through all difficulties, un- 
til, measured by the record of other indus- 
tries, it seems sensational. So fast have 
technical improvements followed upon one 
another during the past three years that it 
is surprising we can take them calmly. I 
suppose the reason we can is because they 
do not burst upon us as the startling out- 
put of any single individual, at any given 
minute, but come by degrees as the cumu- 
lative result of the effort of many minds. 


Pictures by Electricity 


Some idea of the tremendous growth of 
broadcasting, at least, can be obtained by 
recalling that less than six years ago there 
was only one broadcasting station in the 
United States organized for the service of 
public programs while today there are more 
than 600. In 1920 the total expenditure in 
the industry was not much more than $1,- 
000,000. For 1925 the total was approxi- 
mately $350,000,000. 

The initial step in the transmission of 
pictures electrically was made in 1842, by 
Alexander Bain, an English physicist. His 
plan was so basically correct that present- 
day experimenters are following, in the 
main, in his footsteps. He arranged two 
pendulums electrically in such a manner 
that if one preceded the other by a slight 
amount of the time of a stroke, it was held 
until the other reached the same position, 
when both then started a new stroke. 

These swinging pendulums were the basic 
synchronizers necessary in any picture 
work. On each swing a tablet descended a 
notch at a time at the side of the pendulum. 
At the transmitting station the swinging 
ares of the pendulum carried a small con- 
tactor which rode over type faces, making 
the appropriate electric contacts to be 
transmitted to the distant receiver, where a 
similar swinging pendulum was tracing a 
path across a piece of paper. By chemical 
action the electricity received from the 
transmitter would discolor the paper at the 
receiver to give an impression of the original. 

It has taken eighty years to come to com- 
mercial operations, because in addition to 
requiring exactly the conditions necessary 
to sending the voice or a telegraph message 
through the air, picture transmission must 
also do the additional job of indicating the 

Continued on Page 97) 








ee a ver, 


neP 


ree 











Bottle-neck defense 


—important for harbors 
and Snider’s Catsup 


T the Narrows, the neck of the bottle, 
stand forts defending New York 
Harbor. Likewise a strong defense system 
has been built up at the neck of every 
bottle of Snider's Catsup. 

The air-tight cap protects Snider's Cat- 
sup. Another strong protection is the vac- 
uum space between the top of the catsup 
and the top of the bottle. 

Just two reasons why this old-time 
favorite preserves the fresh taste and rich 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


vitamins of the tomatoes as they come 
from the vine. 

Itisall part of the Snider process to make 
a catsup that tastes mighty good and is 
worthy of the food it’s made of—the 
acknowledged leader of all foods in vita- 
min content. 

Add zest to your meal with a generous 
helping of this flavory vitamin catsup. 
From a bite to a banquet, Snider's touches 
the spot. 





z- S 
Important booklet—free. For better health and appetite read the story of > 
vitamins and tomatoes. Address Snider, Temple Building, Rochester, New York 










The neck of the bottle 


In a bottle of catsup, as in 
a harbor, it’s the “neck” that 
must be defended. Snider 
guards this point, thus pre- 
serving the freshness of the 
tomatoes for your table 




















{ aa Bi 


TOMATO PRODUCTS 






0 cones A 

510 

SearPims caggy ai ees 

Sera yaa wind AM Ss 
came ae 












THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 





Baker Velour 


FOR FINE FURNITURE AND FINE MOTOR ARS 


Upholstery does not always receive the consideration it deserves. 

. Too often—what looks well will wear well—is as- 

In buying furniture investigate the many advantages 

Baker Velours provide. ...... Ask your dealer to show you the 
latest Baker patterns and color effects To enjoy beauty 

well as lasting satisfaction be sure your upholstery is made by Baker. 


A. T. Baker & Co., INc., Manayunk, — 


Cc 8 E. Jac Bld Los Angeles, 1020 Central Blig 
umcy, Mass., 94 Di well. y Toledo, 923 Nicholas Bldg 


for this label on any furmture vou 
sy. It signifies genuine Baker Velour, 


Baker 
Uelowr 


Upon request we will be glad 8 you our very interesting upholstery booklet. 


























(Continued from Page 94 
points on an area for which values must be 
represented. 

There have been at least 1000 workers in 
the field since Bain, but present-day experi- 
menters have had a tremendous advantage, 
because the advance of radio has produced 
more accurate instruments. 

When the Navy first took up the inven- 
tion of available types of equipment cap- 
able of transmitting pictures, sketches and 
handwriting, the work was carried on by 
the Bureau of Engineering and the Naval 
Research Laboratory. Naval engineers 
transmitted photographs over a distance of 
ten miles. Now these same pictures may be 
sent over 4000 miles with less trouble. The 
process which we now call photo-radio is 
that of sending a single picture from one 
point to another by electricity in three to 
twenty minutes. 

The recent stunt of New York newspa- 
pers in producing part of a page of a London 
newspaper of the day before, sent by radio, 
reminds me of a speech made several years 
ago by Owen D. Young. Mr. Young was 
speaking to a group in which there were a 
number of engineers. He said he was im- 
patient for the time when they would stop 
fooling with dots and dashes that had to be 
retranscribed after they were sent across 
the ocean at such a waste of time. 

‘“What you ought to be able to do,” he 
urged, “is to send the whole front page of a 
paper across the Atlantic all at the same 
time.” 

The engineers in that audience were in- 
clined to remind Mr. Young of all the 
technical difficulties in the way of such a 
proceeding. 

“I know there are difficulties,’’ he ad- 
mitted, “and I don’t know how to over- 
come them. That’s your job.” It was 
their job and they performed it well. 

Television is the process of sending a 
number of pictures so rapidly that they will 
have the effect of motion pictures. I was 
amazed to discover, not long ago, that a 
good many intelligent persons have an idea 
that television may in some mysterious way 
eventually make it possible to see the actual 
figure of a friend at a distance, unbe- 
known to him. This accounts for the 
frequent remark, when television is men- 
tioned, ‘‘Oh, I hope they'll never come to 
that. I wouldn’t want anybody to see me 
the way I look around home in the morn- 
ing.” 

To reassure the fearful one, it is safe to 
say that no method at present under in- 
vestigation is likely to waft your image 
through the air unless you are making an 
effort to have it sent. The machines for 
such transmission will undoubtedly be in 
plain sight. 


Radio’s True Mission 


Capt. R. H. Ranger effected the first 
completely automatic radio transmission of 
pictures across the ocean in 1924. The 
photo-radiogram transmitter was located in 
London. The pictures sent were those of 
President Coolidge and former Secretary 
Hughes. During the recent labor strike, 
pictures were received daily by radio from 
London. 

The year 1926 opened with the United 
States undisputed leader of world-wide 
wireless. Radio circuits are now in opera- 
tion between the United States and Eng- 
land, France, Germany, Italy, Poland, 
Sweden, Norway and the Argentine. 
Across the Pacific, radio connects us with 
Japan, Hawaii and the Dutch East Indies. 
It has lowered the rates in ali classes of in- 
ternational communication. It has sped 
up the service of messages across the seas. 
It has established direct links of communi- 
cation with countries heretofore connected 
only by numerous relays to the seaboard. 

I believe that service is the true mission 
of radio. It began as entertainment, just 
as motoring started as a sport. But the 
automobile industry went to its highest 
point when the motor car became an essen- 
tial element of transportation. The tele- 
phone was a toy at the beginning of its 





THE SATURDAY 





history and little more than a novelty for 
twenty or twenty-five years. 

Yet for all that, I am fully aware of the 
significance of each new invention in the 
great program of radio service. I get my 
own thrills not from the inventions them- 
selves but, like everybody else, from their 
effect upon me and my daily life. 

Thus when on a certain Sunday at home 
I listened to a sermon delivered by radio by 
Doctor Foster, of Newark, I thrilled to 
what he said. It was a sermon on religion. 
The introduction ran something like this: 
“IT cannot address you as citizens of New- 
ark, because my voice is being heard be- 
yond the limits of the city. I cannot 
address you as fellow Americans, because 
my voice is being heard perhaps in Cuba, in 
Canada and in Central America. I cannot 
address you as brethren of my faith, be- 
cause only a very insignificant part of the 
great number who are listening to me are 
of my own faith. Therefore I must address 
you as fellow human beings.”’ 


Hearing Myself Talk 


Perhaps mine was a sentimental reaction. 
If it was, I am not ashamed of it. On a day 
when we can all be addressed as fellow 
human beings may we not hope that some- 
thing finer and more tolerant will come into 
our attitudes, one toward the other? Any- 
way, I believe so. 

I was thrilled again when I talked over 
the telephone to Captain Rind, of the 
steamship America, 800 miles at sea. I was 
at a neighbor’s house when the call came. 
During the conversation I was cut off. I 
jiggled the hook and said to the operator, 
“You've cut me off.” 

She murmured suavely, “What number 
were you calling?” 

“*T was talking to a man on the Atlantic 
Ocean,” I told her. I distinctly heard a 
gasp which I am sure is not part of the 
telephone regulations, and then a scared 
voice almost whispered, “‘I will give you 
Information.” I suppose she thought she 
had a lunatic to deal with. 

While I was talking with Captain Rind, 
the Irish maid in my home happened to 
tune the radio receiver to the wave length 
of Deal Beach, the station through which 
we were put. Suddenly she heard my 
voice, and after listening for an incredulous 
moment, began to look all around the 
house to see if I had come home. When she 
was convinced I was nowhere about, she 
decided she was hearing a ghost, and fell 
forward on her knees. 

I got almost the same kind of shock my- 
self not long afterward. I had made an 
address on the pallaphotophone, a device 
for photographing the voice, and the address 
had been recorded by the instrument itself. 
Two months afterward, at my home in 
Mount Vernon, I tuned in on WGY at 
Schenectady, 150 miles away, just in time 
to hear the announcer say, “‘The next 
speaker will be David Sarnoff, who will 
talk about the pallaphotophone.”” So there 
I sat in eerie silence, listening to myself 
lecture from 150 miles away! 

I could not help thinking, as I tuned my- 
self out, how wonderful it would have been 
if the pallaphotophone had existed in the 
time of King Tut or Cleopatra. Suppose 
that, instead of a good deal of furniture of 
doubtful value, King Tut’s tomb had been 
filled with pallaphotophone records! We 
should no longer have to wonder whether 
he worried about income taxes and flappers. 
And Cleopatra might have passed on to 
us direct her beauty secrets. 

Carrying a little further forward this 
whim of measuring present-day inventions 
backward, how much better it would have 
been if Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address could 
have been canned and served as a Lincoln's 
Day speech, instead of many of those we 
get! Incidentally, the newspapers of the 
day failed to recognize that address as of 
vital importance. They recorded in full 


other efforts that now are forgotten, and 
in the main ended their accounts with: 
“The President also delivered a_ short 
address,”’ 


EVENING POST 


Since the mysteries of the air constantly 
excite me, who have more or less grown up 
in touch with at least their outer borders, | 
can sympathize with those who meet these 
wonders for the first time. It is truly re- 
markable what a hold the radio has taken 
upon many who at first were seemingly 
unsusceptible to such influences. An engi- 
neering friend of mine says he makes peo- 
ple take him to the theater when they ask 
him out to dinner these days, otherwise 
he knows they will ask him questions about 
radio all evening. 

At the broadcasting stations I have been 
told that men and women are so anxious 
to go on the air that they beg, browbeat and 
even try to bribe their way in. Many in- 
sist that they must broadcast to reach a 
brother, sister or friend who has run away 
from home. Again, a woman will confide 
to the announcer that she expects to win 
back a straying lover by wooing him 
through the air. These personal appeals 
are not permitted, of course, and I expect 
in most cases they are manufactured to 
serve as an aid in the effort to become, for 
once, part of the great enchanting air game. 

The mail that pours into the stations 
reveals the extent of the radio infection. 
Some of the letters are almost like love 
letters. ‘“‘ You cannot know what it means 
to me to listen for your signal every night. 
I wait for you all day, and tune in at least 
fifteen minutes ahead of time se that I 
shan’t miss a word.”” Soruns one heartfelt 
message from a middle-aged woman who 
teaches school in the Ozark Mountains. 
Another pean of thanks comes from a man 
in Maine whose vision is impaired. He 
rode three miles to reach somebody who 
could write a letter of appreciation for him. 
A Montana rancher telegraphs a Sunday- 
night broadcasting group to say, ‘‘We 
regard you as our week-end guests and 
welcome you as such.”’ 

A farmer in Kansas, so cut off from the 
main highway that sometimes he and his 
wife see nobody but each other for a week, 
says his radio was worth the three steers 
he had to sell to buy it. 

** And those steers took considerable feed 
to fatten,”’ he adds. 

A wife writes to thank the inventor of 
radio for reforming her husband. ‘“‘He 
hardly ever gambles evenings any more, 
now that he has the radio to listen to,”’ she 
rejoices; adding, “The radio is as good as 
a revival meeting.” 


A Boon to the Isolated 


A doctor in the backwoods speaks a 
word for electrisity. “‘I know something 
of all kinds of light,”” he writes. ‘‘ Last week 
I operated by a pine torch at two in the 
morning, on a patient with hernia. He is 
getting well and has just paid me with a 
bushel of walnuts and three gallons of wild 
honey. Sometimes I operate by oil lamp- 
light, sometimes by candlelight. So I know 
what electricity means.” 

A woman in the South who has not vis- 
ited her home in New York for fifteen 
years thanks singers, actors and announ¢ 
ers indiscriminately for the breath o/ 
Broadway they have brought to her. 

‘Remember that every night we shall 
wait for you,”’ she concluded; “my hus- 
band and I —two under the magnolias.”’ 

The initials under which the announcers 
of various stations hide their identities 
have become household names. People 
write to these men and women as if they 
were intimate friends, asking for advice and 
making confidences. A great deal of the 
mail comes from women, even the an- 
nouncer of sporting events getting his 
share from the fair sex. The first of these 
epistles were regarded as curiosities, but 
now wives are almost as interested in base- 
ball, football and boxing as their husbands. 

The announcer has a rather difficult job. 
He must be friendly enough to give an in- 
formal touch to radio soirées, and yet he 
must not so overdo the informality that he 
grows tiresome and rowdyish. Whatever 
he does, he is pretty sure to reap both cheers 
and brickbats, for the radio audience is a 








FREE: ; on 





B KFORE 
Shaving . . 











e retouched Notice the skin before 
shaving. It has had a chance to partly heal 
from the effects of shaving 24 hours agi 
Now notice the other photograph, After 
shaving. (Torn open pores. Nicks! Hair 
spikes!) Men—that’s at 
Burn! And, mer that’s why 


there’s a demand for this new kind of 


Maas your 





face smart 


shaving cream 
A cream that ¢ and soothe 
ve 

\ brand-new principl 
away with the nevessity 


soothing lotions all th hancy tim 
wasters that formerly had to be applic 
to burning faces 

And in just a little dab. vou get shou 
sands of tiny bubbi that take the fight 
right out of stubborn bristles 

Be sure of this cream Let it prove 


itself to you as it has to thousands of other 
men. Don’t buy—accept it. You sampl 
tin containing 7 free cooling shaves 1s wait 


ing for you send fk if today ind see 


cry 

dn Y/ 
Rut Tym 
Vice- Pres. General Mg 


FREDERICK Ft ‘GRAM ¢ 
Est RRS 


oa 


Wir r t.. Cana I St.. Detr 


A FTER 





Shaving .. 


uw torn sk Ingram's 


p 








der. 4 having y oe 
/ ’ a 
; 
i talieeihementiinetineiasnsmeeinmanenat ET NT AA IN 





Catches the 
hair as you 
clip it! 


Hair Catching 


Feature 
makes home clipping 


even easier 


Brown & Sharpe clippers are favor- 
ites among the two million people 
who use clippers in their own homes 
to keep the hair of the whole family 
neat and trim between visits to the 
barber’s and hairdresser’s. Their 
sharp-cutting, easy action makes 
hair trimming a quick, simple job 
for anyone. 


Now Brown & Suarpe have added an 
ingenious hair catching feature to their 
Home Model thar makes home clipping 


The 


, 
hair catcher prevents the clipped hair from 


even more simple and convenient. 


falling down the neck or onto the floor. It 
catches the hair as you clip it. When it be- 
comes full you simply shake the hair into 
some convenient receptacle. You can slip 
it right off the clippers when you want 
to clean them, and attach it again with 


the mere turn of a wing nut. 


The Home Model clipper with this conven- 
ient new attachment is packed ina neat case. 
We'll be glad to send the mother or daugh- 
ter of the family our booklet on bobbed 
hair, “Keeping the Smart Bob Smart.” 


Brown & Sharpe Mfg. Co., Providence, R. 1.,U. S.A. 


(CABLE ELESREE SE EW) 








THE SATURDAY 


severe critic. The sporting announcer must 
really act as umpire or referee in order not 


| to let his hearers miss any of the excite- 


ment. He must have a clear head and a 


| keen eye, for his eye will have to transmit 


| to his brain faster than the average. 


He 
must also put his description into words a 
novice will understand, yet at the same 
time give the expert the concise technical 


| points. 


One announcer assigned to report hockey 


| matches went to Canada with the teams 
| and stayed during several weeks of practice. 


He had to learn to know each man so well 


| that he could pick anyone out even in a 
| time of hectic excitement. 


The same announcer has what he declares 
is an infallible recipe for telling when a 
fighter is weakening and ready for the 
knock-out blow. 


“I look at the knees,” he explains. “I 


| have seen men grinning gamely when they 
| were so groggy they could hardly stand. 


Fighters are actors. Their faces tell noth- 
ing. It is the tendons of their knees that 
throb and give them away.” 

Entirely apart from my connection with 
the industry, I am an incorrigible optimist 
about radio, as must all too plainly appear. 
But I do not claim for it any superaccom- 
plishments in the way of reforming the 


| world. I do not think it can ever make over 


human nature. I doubt if it can even make 
over a husband, in spite of the wife who 


| said hers had quit gambling to listen to it. 
| It seems unlikely that overnight, at least, it 
| will produce a new kind of politician, and I 


imagine it would be saying too much to pre- 
dict that at an-early date it will change our 
educational system. Children need the as- 
sociation of other children when they are 
growing up. That is part of their educa- 
tion. Training them by radio exclusively 
would not therefore be ideal. 

Yet something even better than we can 


| at this time see must surely come out of the 





capital, science and brains which have 
been poured into radio development. _Lit- 
erally hundreds of midlions of dollars and 
the best efforts of our keenest scientists and 


| business men have been the American con- 
tribution toward perfecting mankind’s 


newest servant. Some notable results along 
the line of entertainment and information 
we have just considered. On the service 
side there are important additions in the 
making. 

Not long ago a nation-wide survey was 


| made of agricultural colleges, farm publica- 


| tions and organizations of farmers to deter- 
| mine the effect of the radio on the farm. 


The conclusions reached were that the 
radio relieves the farmer and his family of 
the sense of isolation—harshest handicap 
of agricultural life—that it broadens the 
social, spiritual and religious influences; 


| copes with class and sectional differences 
| and develops greater national unity as be- 
| tween the farmer and other human beings. 


How to Keep’Em Down on the Farm 


Specifically and practically, it can be em- 
ployed to furnish accurate time signals and 
weather reports, broadcasting warnings of 
approaching storms and floods. It can, and 
does, provide accurate news of price and 
trade conditions. Several agricultural col- 
leges are trying out radio-extension courses. 
Perhaps some day there will be a radio- 
extension university for farmers. Even 
without it, there are countless ways in 
which the whole family may be aided in 
its daily work of cooking, sewing, plowing 


| and tending the stock. 


on the farm? 


But the human problem is of larger im- 
portance. Will radio help to keep the boy 
I believe it will. Owen D. 


Young recently said: ‘‘Those of us who 


| left the farm did so because of the things 
| which the city man had and the farmer had 
| not. The attraction of an occupation out- 
| of-doors, of productive labor, of good food 


and comfortable living conditions, was not 


| enough to offset the cultural advantages of 
| the city; but now the city man may leave 


the city for the things which the farmer has 
and he has not.” 


EVENING POST 


Whether the city man migrates to the 
country or not, keeping on the farm the 
boy and the girl already there is the ultimate 
service the radio will render to rural com- 
munities. It is too early to call for statis- 
tics, but they will show, I am convinced, 
that the new movement has already begun. 

For radio carries the farmer to the scene 
of world events. The backwoods dwindles 
and fades. The boy coming in from his 
milking twists a dial and is in New York, 
the city of glittering lights and life, of giant 
buildings and never-ending crowds. He is 
there listening to a famous band. He is one 
of an audience applauding eagerly the 
rapid-fire repartee of a popular comedy; or 
he is watching a football match and cheer- 
ing loudest of any. Imagination has 
bridged the gap between sight and sound. 


At His Hearers’ Mercy 


Can the radio bring about better govern- 
ment? Perhaps. Popular interest in gov- 
ernment would, I am sure, be enormously 
increased if great national issues were fixed 
for debate by Congress at special night ses- 
sions and broadcast by radio. Of course, 
the man who is not political-minded would 
not be made so by hearing a congressional 
debate, but he would at least pick up 
scraps of information which, since his own 
interests are involved, might lead him 
eventually to an intelligently onlooking 
part in national affairs. I think the radio is 
making the speaker watch his step, and his 
word too. 

The man who talks politics through a 
microphone has got to talk sense. If he 
doesn’t, his audience will walk out on him 
and he won’t even know it. Radio audi- 
ences are quick to condemn as well as 
praise. If they think a speech is terrible, 
they say so unhesitatingly—often by tele- 
graph. They never used to be quite so 
frank when they had to sit as part of a 
bored audience which was compelled to 
listen whether it liked what it was hearing 
or not. It is possible that orators, knowing 
that they may be cut off by the mere twist 
of a wrist in the prime of an utterance, 
may be a little careful what they say. It 
has been estimated—although, of course, 
radio estimates are as unstable as any 
that in five years radio listeners will num- 
ber 50,000,000. No orator during his 
entire lifetime was ever heard by so many. 

Perhaps it is not a service to be rejoiced 
over that radio has added 5000 new words 
to the language, but it is true. The war 
added 6000. More than 200 of the radio 
additions to Americanese have the prefix 
radio. The others run all the way from 
autodyne to zymodyne. 

Sooner or later all radio roads lead back 
to the question of who will pay for broad- 
casting. Yet I do not see that this question 
is so difficult to answer. The best programs 
now put on the air are contributed by those 
interests which have the most to gain from 
public goodwill. Notwithstanding the fact 
that, in the main, broadcasters have found 
no way of obtaining direct returns from the 
listening public, the indirect returns are in 
many cases of sufficiently impelling motive 
for the continuation of broadcasting. 

Electrical devices in the home and power- 
transmission lines sometimes give rise to 
electrical disturbances which interfere with 
the reception of weak radio signals. The 
ideal then is to produce a strong signal 
from distant stations, thus eliminating the 
detrimental effect of natural and artificial 
electrical disturbances. Sufficient power 
also must be provided at the transmitting 
station to meet the more difficult condition 
of daytime summer reception, as well as the 
comparatively easy necessities of nighttime 
winter reception. High-powered broad- 
casting will do this. Once a reasonable 
number of these stations are in operation, 
every listener will get reliable service at any 
time from one or more. 

Furthermore, those listeners who are 
within the normal range of the low-powered 
purely local station may listen to its 
program, since the Third National Radio 
Conference has recommended that such 


August 14,1926 


stations shall be located outside of and at 
some distance from population centers. 
The broadcast station of the present one- 
kilowatt type emits a signal more powerful 
in its vicinity than a signal received in the 
same neighborhood from a station fifty 
times as powerful located twenty-five to 
fifty miles away. 

It is clear that nationally interesting pro- 
grams can be sent out economically only 
from stations of such power that they reach 
vast bodies of listeners. Superpower 
broadcasting will deserve the sanction and 
support of the Government, the public and 
the radio industry itself. There is no ques- 
tion in my mind but that once the physical 
agencies are in existence and have proved 
their value to the public, the industry will 
coéperatively support this agency. 

I hope that wire-line networks and radio- 
relay systems for the interconnection of 
broadcasting stations will also be developed 
side by side with superpower broadcasting. 
Each method has something of value to 
contribute to the ultimate picture. 

In a recent survey eight out of ten per- 
sons voted for the high-powered station. 
People in isolated regions want it. Some 
of those in crowded cities, believing that it 
will interfere with the reception of local - 
stations, do not want it. At the moment, 
in the broadcasting art, the two great 
problems upon which research is being 
directed are: First, improved modulation 
that is, the most precise control of the prod- 
uct coming from the microphone and the 
molding of the electrical impulses into the 
exact values of music or speech; and sec- 
ond, the problem of emitting more effi- 
ciently greater power from the antenne 
system of the broadcasting station. 

The industry thus recognizes that not 
only public but national interests demand 
the system of nation-wide broadcasting. 
Regardless of the number of local sta- 
tions—and the local station, like the local 
newspaper, theater and concert hall, will 
be permanent—there is need for a system 
of national broadcasting, ready for any 
public emergency, with facilities adequate 
to cover the entire country and to reach 
across the ocean whenever desired. 


Superpower Broadcasting 


True, a sufficient number of stations to 
cover a considerable part of the country 
may be, and often are, interlinked by wire 
to act as one transmitting unit; but the 
fact must be faced that, whereas the Presi- 
dent of the United States may pick up his 
telephone in Washington tonight and talk 
across the continent to San Francisco, he 
could not, without vast preparation, con- 
siderable expense and the voluntary co- 
operation of many broadcasting stations 
owned and operated individually, talk to 
even half the nation by radio. 

Nor can we expect to receive regular 
programs broadcast to us through the 
powerful stations of Europe unless our own 
voice is strong enough to span the Atlantic 
with reciprocal programs. 

We have already come a long way from 
the day when President Wilson appeared 
before Congress to urge the entrance of the 
United States into the World War. At 
that time there was no way for his message 
to reach the people direct. It had to be 
recopied by news associations in Washing- 
ton, sent over a network of wires to the 
cities and towns of the country, reprinted 
by 20,000 papers and distributed by a vast 
delivery force to 25,000,000 homes before 
its import could be generally known. To- 
day with some advance preparation, Pres- 
ident Coolidge may, in his own voice, 
announce to millions a crisis which confronts 
the nation. With the superpower broad- 
casting system perfected, he will be able 
to do it instantaneously and without any 
advance preparation. 

I have said that superpower broadcast- 
ing will help to do away with interference. 
I mean, of course, that more power will 
override man-made obstacles, and even 
some of those for which Nature is to blame. 

Continued on Page 103 











Perhaps you think 


your checks are immune 


------------ but as long as 
you write them by hand 
they are open to the 
| 


Ald 


fU/ f Pwr. 


y 
; 


AY after day the headlines flash news of 
the check raiser’s activity. He is every- 


where. He strikes when least expected. Of 
course the police get on his trail, but that 
doesn’t help much . . . the check has been 
cashed . . . the money spent . the victim 
is out his hard-earned dollars. 

You may say, “Well, it can never happen to 
me. . . . IL write my checks carefully and give 
them only to people I know.” 

However, such precaution is not enough. 
You never can tell what may happen to a check 
You 


dishonest person may secure it by accident or 


in transit. have no control over it. A 
as the result of patient waiting. With a skilful 
stroke of the pen or the clever use of an eraser 
he raises the figures and words written by you 
on the amount line. Then at an appropriate 
time he passes the check and your name is added 
to the list of those contribute to the 
astounding sum of $100,000,000 lost annually 


through check fraud, according to the American 


who 


Institute of Accountants. 
likely 


modern 


This is more to happen now. than 


before. Since business firms use the 


Protectograph to protect their funds, the forger 


TODD SYSTEM OF 
CHECK PROTECTION 


Todd Expansion Creates Opportunity for Salesmen, Na- 
tional advertising identifies the Todd name with the 
protection of bank accounts—business and personal, New 
models are being made for a constantly widening market. 
This era of expansion means opportunities for men who 
can qualify to represent a progressive organization. If 
you are interested, write to us at once, 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 















Trade-mark 


' 

L The Protectograph made in 
a Variety of standard models 
one for every type of bus: 
Only Todd 


can make a Protectograph 


ness. $37.50 uy 





R 





has been forced to operate in 
the field of personal check 
writers. You need only to look 






































det Todd CGreenbae Checks with 
their patented self-canceling 
features, are reasonable in 
price —even when purchased 
in small quantitic For busi 


ness and personal use 


td 


Standard Fo: 
Qualified 
policies ct othe 
tageous discounts 
Metropolitan ¢ 
ance Company of 


City. 


gery Bonds 
Todd users receive 
most advan 
from the 
Insur 


York 


" 
iSuaity 


New 






ink into the very fiber of the 
paper. And even pen changes, 


the clever method that does not 








at the police records to find 





need erasures, are impossible. 


Learn more about this re- 





proof of his easy successes. 


And they are increasing—in 


great cities. 


towns and yillages as well as in 
Protection is within your reach 
Fortunately there is a means available at a low 
price to protect the amount line on every check 
write. The new Improved Personal Pro- 
tectograph for $18 
personal checks by the same method used on the 
checks of Alterations by 
erasures are impossible, because the Personal 


you 


writes and guards your 


modern business. 


Protectograph shreds the amount in indelible 

















markable little machine and 
Todd System of Check Protection. 
Enjoy the security that comes from sending out 


about the 


checks whose handsome, clean-cut imprint gives 
full pretection from the forger. 

In your vicinity is a Todd expert in the pre 
vention of check-fraud losses who will explain 
the Personal Protectograph to you in detail. It 
will be worth your while to telephone or write 


him. Your own bank probably can show you 
] t : 


“Hy 


the Personal Protectograph. You will also find 
it on sale at most good stationers and depart- 
ment stores, 
Write for free copy of “Check No. 197” 
This interesting booklet tells the adventures of 
a single check and gives detailed information 
Fill in cou 
Protectograph 


N. ¥ Nol 


Ou per sasely 


about the Personal Protectograph. 
pon below. The Todd Company, 
Division. (Est. 1899.) Rochester, 
makers of the Protectograph, 

Checks and Todd Greenbac Checks. 


_—— oe — 


THE TODD COMPANY, Protectograph Division 
1144 University Avenue, Rochester, N.Y 
Gentlemen Please send me a ce 
Check No. 197 and detailed information abou the | 


Address 


Name of bank 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


” SHABBY ca LACQUER IT 


| 





BRUSHING 


fk WACQUE ER 




































THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


7 HY 
NEW AGAIN 


Saturday Afternoons 
Pun with 


RGGERS> 


_S ROSH OS } ‘ (\) oy 


 & oe 
=" € ay Ss . 
‘5 bi Fone a 
A > ea gt 
aa Pera, ~ oe aa a 5 vs 


its 


























) 


—_ 





one 
a? 


T all started when Jack Small picked up a Rogers Color 

Card at the office and read about this amazing new home 
lacquer. How it goes right over the old finish. How it ‘‘Dries 
while you wait’’— ready for immediate use. How almost un- 
limited and beautiful color effects are possible. 
On the way home Saturday noon he bought some Rogers 
Brushing Lacquer, a can of Rogers Thinner, and a good, soft 
brush. After a quick lunch he started. And this is what he did: 

















1 Lacquered the old, shabby chiffonier 4 Retrieveda discarded Colonial chair 
in the girls’ room, decorating with charm- from the attic and transformed it with 
ing transfer designs. rich lacquer colors. 

2 Lacquered his old, scratched-up end 

table. Good as new. 5 Slipped the faded chromo from an 
3 Sneaked little Betty’s kiddy car away old frame and made it a thing of color 
and gave it a bright, new dress. and beauty. 








And then he quit only because Helen had dinner on the table. 
He had spent alittle less than four hours doing all these things. 
Everything was dry and ready for use—even the last piece. 
And Helen was literally in ecstasies. 

7 . 7 5 y 
Anyone can use this wonderful new Rogers Brushing Lac- 
quer. There is no tedious “getting ready.”” It goes on with a 
brush, right over the old finish. DRIES WHILE YOU WAIT 
—in a half hour or less. There is no litter, no confusion, 
no drying wait. And the beautiful, glossy, porcelain-like 
finish is practically indestructible. Does not print or hold lint. 
Dries smoothly and free from dust. 
There are literally hundreds of uses in every home, store, 
office, factory and in industries of all kinds. 





Dealers everywhere sell Rogers Brushing Lacquer in the 
66 ¥ 9 ; ‘ ; 
MONEY-BACK’’ GUARANTY Oriental can. Comes in a wide range of newest colors, also 
Try one can of Rogers Brushing Lacquer. If not MORE white, black and clear. Be sure you get the genuine—the kind 
f than satisfied, return what is left in the canto your dealer, sold on a publicly advertised “MONEY-BACK” Guaranty. 


He is authorized t und the entire purchase price. o : 
e is authorized to refi P _— DETROIT WHITE LEAD WORKS, Detroit, Michigan 


offlse distributed and guaranteed by Makers of Highest Grade Paints, Varnishes, Colors, Lacquers 


ACME WHITE LEAD AND COLOR WORKS 
Detroit, Michigan 


LINCOLN PAINT AND COLOR COMPANY ; Di ( m4 
Lincoln, Nebraska f p _ (- . y Os 
THE MARTIN-SENOUR COMPANY . 


Chicago, Illinois 
PENINSULAR PAINT AND VARNISH COMPANY 


Detroit, Michigan y O qd 


} THE SHERWIN-WILLIAMS COMPANY 
Cleveland, Ohio 


mi 
tee 


PB AHA he 8 a 


Some of the commonest uses for 3-in- 
One are shown above. Do you use 
3-in-One for all of them? Maybe one 
or two are new to you. Then read the 
following ‘‘different’’ every-day uses. 


3-in-One lubricates phonographs as 
well as sewing machines; revolving 
chairs as well as electric fans; vacuum 
cleaners as well as typewriters. 3-in- 
One is ideal for all light mechanisms 
in home and office, factory and farm. 
Light enough to penetrate quickly and 
work out accumulated dirt from the 
bearings; viscous enough to stay in 
the bearings and oil perfectly. Fine 
enough for the most delicate mech- 


2 LL 


Ve 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


“EBs, 


Oe 
Naruto nithee ascites id 


RE-ARMS - REELS — CASH-REGISTERS 


O3u431Si93uY 





ZA 


ANS POLISH 


PROUBRICATg 


/ 
REWRITE A 
os ZCrES 


tee 


as 


oh 


eee 


WMYUVW-20VHL 





a NI DISILN3IDS GNV TWINGG-IVdISOW UOS 


\> 





Jess ee 


anisms, clocks, etc. Inexpensive 
enough for every-day oiling of hinges, 
bolts, locks. An oil compound far 
superior to any straight mineral oil. 
Never evaporates. Never gums. 
Never dries out. 

3-in-One positively rustproofs all 
metal —razor blades as well as gas 
ovens; auto springs as well as guns; 
golf clubs as well as tools. 3-in-One 
prevents tarnish and verdigris on 
brass. Sinks into metal pores. Forms 
moisture-proof film. Keeps nickel 
and silverware bright. 

3-in-One cleans and polishes win- 
dows and other glassware, as well as 


furniture and woodwork; porcelain 
enamel as well as linoleum and oil 
cloth. Makes first-class Polish Mop 
out of common kitchen mop—dandy 
Dustless Dust Cloth out of any soft 
old rag. Full directions for using 3-in- 
One are given in illustrated Diction- 
ary of Uses wrapped around every 
bottle. Use coupon at right to get 
free copy; also sample. 


3-in-One has imitations—many 
kinds of oil—many different grades 
—none so good in real value and pos- 
itive oiling quality. To make sure you 
get what you ask for, look for the 
Big Red “One” on the label. 


August 14,1926 


1894 
32 Years of 


Continuous Service 


1926 


3-in-One is sold by grocers, druggists, hard- 
ware, sporting goods, notion, auto accessory, 
department and general stores—everywhere, 
in 1-oz., 3-oz. and 4-pint bottles; also in 3-oz. 
Handy Oil Cans. The %-pint size is most 
economical for household use — contains 
most oil for the money—the can is handiest 
for oiling. 


FREE SAMPLE AND DICTIONARY 
Three-in-One Oil Company, 
130LE. William St., New York, N. Y 


Please send sample of 3-in-One and Dictionary 
of Uses, without any cost, to 


Name 
Street Address 
er Rural Route____ 


City. 











Continued from Page 98 

Interference may be the fault of a swing- 
ing antenna or a loose connection. If one 
antenna is too close to another, especially 
if the wires are parallel, the signals are 
likely to sway and sometimes disappear. 
This happens especially in the case of 
New York apartment houses. 

Radio fans are frequently curious about 
the factors which cause night reception to 
be clearer than that of the day. Radio 
travels in part by the aid of a region in the 
upper air 100 miles or more above the 
earth’s surface, which acts as a great mirror 
to the electromagnetic waves. The vary- 
ing properties of this zone explain many 
so-called freaks of reception. Here the 
atmospheric gases are ionized — that is, 
their atoms are partly disintegrated into 
their component electrons. This region 
causes radio concerts to fade, giving far- 
away stations great volume for several 
moments, then swinging them into silence. 


The Golden Age of Broadcasting 


Night reception from stations outside 
a 100-mile radius is generally by means of 
sky waves, and because there are no ab- 
sorbing objects on the mirror surface such 
as exist on the earth, sound travels much 
better. The absence of sunlight is another 
factor which increases night-reception 
range. Concerts picked up during the day- 
time are generally from stations within a 
fifty-mile radius. They are thought to 
travel by ground waves, which die out 
quickly because they are absorbed by 
trees, steel structures and electric wires. 

Although I went in for prophecy back 
in 1918, I find it hard to assume the rdéle in 
these remarkable days. The years have 
taught me a certain discretion. I know 
that either I shall fall so short of the mark 
as to make what I say archaic in a few 
years, or else I shall overshoot the mark and 
be convicted in time to come of partisan 
exaggeration. 

I have mentioned some of the things 
that radio probably will not do. To sum 
up, it will not bring about the millennium. 
Neither, I think, will it revolutionize in- 
dustries using electric power by transmit- 
ting power itself. The energy received by 
a radio set used continuously during an 
entire year on a good signal would serve 
only to light the average incandescent 
lamp for one second. The talk of trans- 
mitting power by radio then is much like 
talk of carrying water several miles by 
means of a garden-hose spray. On the 
other hand, judging by the developments 
of recent years, it seems a risk to place 
any limitations on scientific development 
in any field of activity. 

But let us see what the golden age of 
radio broadcasting may reasonably be ex- 
pected to bring forth. Certainly, unless 
and until the best programs in the air can 
be received and heard in every home in the 
country— until, in a national emergency, a 
single voice is able to deliver its message 
to every home equipped with a radio set 
we shall not have achieved the ideal of 
radio public service. 

There should be, too, in the golden age, 
coOperation between stations so that no 
listener-in would be compelled to miss the 
big feature of one station while listening to 
the big feature of another. 


THE SATURDAY 


What will be the language of the golden 
age’s broadcasting? I do not know. As 
suredly, with international broadcasting, 
there must for convenience arise a domi- 
nant language. I believe this language will 
be one already in use—perhaps English. 
The problem of broadcasting in our own 
country, where only a single language is 
generally spoken, is comparatively simple; 
but on the European Continent the pro- 
grams of any one country can easily be 
heard by six other nations; and in India, 
where broadcasting is getting a start, there 
are nineteen different languages. In Scan- 
dinavia last summer I visited at the home 
of a farmer who every evening tuned in 
upon London, Paris and Berlin. Music was 
the only language he could understand of 
those which came to him from the air. 

The day is surely coming when, as a 
matter of course, a message written by a 
newspaper correspondent in London will 
be flashed photographically by radio to the 
newspaper office of New York when a 
photographic copy of an editorial in a 
French newspaper can be transmitted the 
whole length of the ocean in a fraction of 
the time that it now takes to send a sum- 
mary. 

A facsimile message that can be flashed 
across the sea, instead of being woven letter 
by letter and word by word into a com- 
pleted sentence and paragraph, is opening 
a new era in international communication. 
Letters, drafts, notes, checks, contracts and 
other commercial and legal documents can 
be almost instantaneously reproduced 
thousands of miles from the sending point. 
This greatly adds to the momentum of 
business, economy and convenience. For 
some time we have been operating photo- 
radiogram circuits from Honolulu to San 
Francisco, and from San Francisco to New 
York daily for test purposes, and now 
service to and from Europe has been 
worked out. So the appallingly cum- 
bersome and uneconomical attempt at 
communication of civilized man has been 
crystallized into an expeditious, convenient 
method. 


When We Can See by Radio 


The greatest day of all will be reached 
when not only the human voice but the 
image of the speaker can be flashed through 
space in every direction. On that day the 
whole country will join in every national 
procession. The backwoodsman will be 
able to follow the play of expression on the 
face of every leading artist. Mothers will 
attend child-welfare clinics in their own 
homes. Workers may go to night school in 
the same way. A scientist can demon- 
strate his latest discoveries to those of his 
profession, even though they be scattered 
all over the world. 

An explorer may use television to reveal 
the wonders of desert and wilderness. His 
lecture room will come to be whatever spot 
he finds most appropriate as an illustrative 
setting for what he is about tosay. I have 
argued that the radio will not affect to a 
great degree the education of children, but 
certainly such agencies as these cannot fail 
to supplement the classroom to every- 
body’s satisfaction. 

Will the radio oust the newspaper? An 
average big-city newspaper prints 100,000 
words of news a day. To speak the same 








EVENING POST 


amount of material over the radio would 


require eight to ten hours. 


The impracticability of this is seen at a 


glance. To get the news fresh off the tap, 
the subscriber to a radio newspaper would 
be compelled to listen in all day, and all 
night too. It is possible, of course, that the 


radio will be able eventually to bring news 


pictures of what is happening in the world 
into the home, but even here the services 
will be only supplementing and not sup- 
planting the picture sections of the news 
papers. 

I do not think it is fantastic to see in the 
future great radio universities broadcasting 
certain courses, perhaps all courses, and 
granting degrees on the basis of written 
examinations. When I speak. of these 
things, of course, I do not mean that the 
plan of action is already worked out. It is 
only possible to sketch the high lights and 
to depend upon time to take care of the rest 


Ousting Jazz 


It looks now as if it would not be too 
much to expect that ether waves will 
diminish crime waves. Many local police 
departments are using the radio to spread 
alarms when a crime has been committed 
or a criminal has escaped. Perhaps in time 
a network of broadcasting and receiving 
stations such as will make it possible to 
give a national alarm almost instantane- 
ously may be established 

At present broadcasting gets its artists 
from the opera, the stage and the concert 
hall. It is not unlikely that in time the 
broadcasting station will comb the field of 
original talent, creating new reputations 
instead of capitalizing old ones. When 
that day comes, the opera, the stage and 
the concert hall will draw from radio in re- 
sponse to the demand of the public to see 
as well as hear its favorite artists. It may 
be that broadcasting will eventually com- 
pete with music publishers for original 
compositions and not only buy but sell 
music-publishing rights. 

Undoubtedly radio symphonies and 
radio grand-opera companies are concep- 
tions not too far-fetched to be visualized. 
Radio employment agencies—that is, bu- 
reaus for the placement of artists—will 
come as a matter of course. One thing 
cannot be questioned: The musical taste of 
the country is improving. Even the casual 
surveys which have been conducted to dis- 
cover, if possible, what the radio audiences 
want reveal that jazz is losing its place at 
the head of the list of favorites. 

What I see then for the future of radio is 
a steady development of the resources al- 
ready known. I have not the imagination 
of a Jules Verne, and must stick to prob- 
abilities. Perhaps the possibilities, and 
even what seem improbabilities to me, will 
become facts of the future. At least it is 
safe to conclude that, seated by our own 
firesides, we shall some day see the world in 
action, as well as hear it. It is to be ex- 
pected that our scientists will find new and 
better ways of bringing to our fireside re- 
treats information, entertainment and in- 
struction from the remote corners of the 
earth. What those ways will be and what 
new wonders they will open we must leave 
to a Verne or to time to reveal. 

Editor's Note—This is the second of two articles 
by Mr. Sarnoff and Miss McBride 














Rust-Proof 
PARKERIZED 














































































Because 


“DUST is playing havoc with 

my car,’’ wired one of the 
world’s famous automobile 
builders several years ago from 


the seashore at Miami. - 


His engineers investigated -- 
they found the solution—they 
“discovered,” like hundreds 
of other manufacturers have, 
that all iron and steel parts can 
be rust-proofed by Parkerizing. 


Today this big plant has an im- 
mense rust-proofing installa- 
tion. Other motor car manu- 
facturers, including those who 
make the finest cars in America, 
Parkerize alliron and steel parts 
which are in any way exposed 
to the insidious attack of rust— 


Parkerizing is simple and efh- 
cient. PARCO POWDER 
added to a tank of boiling 
water makes a rust-proofing so- 
lution in which cleaned articles 
of iron or steel are immersed. 


You can rust-proof the smallest 
nut or the largest part—size 
makes no difference. Parker- 
izing is commercially practical 
for large or small production. 
Innumerable articles, many of 
themnationally known, are now 
Parkerized. 

Why risk your industrial repu- 
tation with the ultimate con- 
sumer and user, by exposing 
your product to rust action, 
when there is a positive, eco- 
nomical process which will 
rust-proof iron or steel without 
affecting the physical character- 
istics In any Way? 

Service plants for Parkerizing 
are located in seventeen in- 
dustrial centers to serve manu- 
facturers not having their own 
installations. 







Get all the facts—THE PARKERIZER 
our monthiy publicaiion, ana ow. book 

The Parker Rust Proofing Process are 
well worth reading. Write for them 


PARKER RUST-PROOF 
COMPANY 


Detroit, U.S. A. 







































Mapleine 
—nationally popular as a 


Candy flavor! 


C\ JHEREVER the finest sweets 

Y of the nation are made—in 
the great candy kitchens from 
Coast to Coast—-there exists a 
constantly increasing apprecia- 
tion of Mapleine as a candy 
flavor. 

Ie is the delicate richness of candies 
flavored with Map!eine which unques- 
tionably explains their wide-spread 
popularity and growing demand. It is 
the pleasant familiarity of flavor, too, 

the same tempting, delicious flavor 
known to millions of Americans for 
many years in the syrup and desserts 

on their own home tables 
Candy-makers who speak with 
authority—men who have devoted a 
fetime to the creation of the nation's 
i tell us that Mapleine’s 
a flavor ts truly 
Being a pure vegetable 
tiniest shade of flavor 


| 
t candic 
ding quality as 
remarkable 
tlavoring, not th« 
is lost through cook ng or storing It 
holds true under any and all conditions 
! Candv-makers find 
riV¢ onomical, too, 


flavori 4 


nanula 


Map/ei 


CRESCENT MANUFACTURING CO 
Seattle, Washi 


gton 


ws —— 


For Syrup 
For Fla voring | 


- 











THE SATURDAY 


OUT - 


Kickapoo Archery 


HE old squaw stuck her head out be- 

tween the flaps of the skin tent and said 
something that sounded like “‘Squt-squt.”’ 
After a decent and manly interval the 
sixteen-year-old detached himself from the 
group of males lounging in the sun. Enter- 
ing the tent, he emerged with a bow and one 
arrow. Quite unconcernedly he sauntered 
toward the river, and I followed, curious to 
know what was going to happen now. 

He took up his station behind a magnifi- 
cent old pecan tree growing by the water- 
side. Following his gaze, I looked into the 
gray water. A few fish idled lazily. He 
waited, immovable. For fully five minutes 
we stood there—he calmly, I in growing 
impatience. Then a huge darker gray 
beauty of a trout floated into view. It must 
have been four feet beneath the surface. 
The Indian’s back muscles ridged stiffly. 
Slowly, oh, ever so slowly, the right hand 
moved back on a level with his hip. Back, 
ever farther back, drew that right hand. 
The trout moved, hesitated, decided to 
stay, resolved to go, reconsidered. But 
that fateful right hand did not waver. Back 
and back it moved, until it appeared to me 
that the arrow must be at least five feet 
long. Then, without warning, the hand 
twitched ever so slightly, the arrow sped, hit 
the water with asoft “‘ plomp,” and up came 
Mr. Trout, belly heavenward, the shaft 
right through his head. 

Without elation, and quite as a matter 
of course, the young buck reached out with 
the bow. With its tip he pulled the fish to- 
ward the bank. His hunting was over for 
the time. The sublime assuredness of it! 
One fish, one arrow, and he certainly not 
yet seventeen. 

“Lucky shot,” I said in English. Then 
in pantomime I praised the superb excel- 
lence of his marksmanship. I don’t know 
the Kickapoo word for boob, but I know 
how one member of that tribe looks when 
he thinks it. I imagine he felt as I would 
feel if he went into ecstasies because I 
proved skilled enough to sign my name on 
paper with a pencil. Why all that pother 
over an ordinary trifle? 

I could have discoursed learnedly to that 
youngster, hardly of high-school age, about 
diffraction of light, and his intelligence and 
training are both so inadequate that he 
could not have understood me. But he 
could shoot a fish through the head with an 
arrow, from the hip, and allow just exactly 
the correct deviation of vision due to the 
fish’s depth and distance, at the given angle. 
Just what is education anyhow? 

The next morning Poti, Dave’s particular 
friend in this settlement of Kickapoos in 
Coahuila, Mexico, asked us whether we 
wished to go deer hunting with him. Of 
course. So he took his wife along to bring 
back the game—any Indian woman would 
be ashamed to let her husband be seen do- 
ing real work; it would reflect on her ability 
as a provider—and he was further encum- 
bered with a five-foot bow and two arrows. 
Mrs. Poti carried them for him until we got 
into the woods up on the mountainside. 
Well, sir, Dave and I walked as quietly as 
ghosts tiptoeing on a cloud, but the way 
that Indian swore at us for disturbing the 
sylvan peace was gratifying in its polyglot 
comprehensiveness. He exhausted his stock 
of Spanish profanity within five minutes 
and it takes an artist to use up the Spanish 
verbal defilements in so short a time—then 
he reverted to Kickapoo. However, he fi- 
nally sighted a deer—or acted as if he had. 
Motioning us to stand still, he took the bow 
and one arrow from his lady love. Then he 
began to move forward, his eyes strained 
on one spot. I looked and looked, but there 
was nothing. I glanced at Dave. He wasn’t 
seeing anything either. 

Poti moved one leg up, forward, down. 
Then the next one up—and froze stiff. I 


EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


OF- DOORS 


have laid the end of a stick in an alligator’s 
mouth expecting it to snap, but the ’gator 
might have been carved of marble. By 
sighting past the vicious snout to objects 
beyond, the upper jaw could be judged as 
moving, though its progress was as slow 
and as steady as the motion of the hour 
hand on a watch. That was the way Poti 
moved now. 

He stopped, if the arrest of a non-motion 
might be called stopping. The right elbow 
moved back with agonizing deliberation — 
back and upward. The left hand was mov- 
ing upward too, in front of his face. Was 
the blame idiot going to shoot at air? In 
front of him was nothing but trees. Still 
that slow, slow movement of the elbow. A 
pause, a letting down, a lifting up, a draw- 
ing back and—zoom! A _full-antlered 
tawny body jumped into the air a mile and 
a half—well, fifteen feet—and came down 
with a crash. There was a scurrying of 
hard-pointed feet rapidly dying away in the 
distance, the squaw threw the 150-pound 
deer over her shoulder. 

“What was the second arrow for, Poti?” 

“*Sometimes see two,”’ was the answer. 

The explanation of this unerring archery 
lies in the games of the little Kickapoolets. 
In the camp, toddlers of three and four 
years all have their little bows—and one 
arrow. They have a ball of twisted rags 
about the size of a grapefruit. This they 
roll along the ground as fast as a man can 
run and while it is in full flight they transfix 
it with their miniature shafts. 

As they grow older, say to seven or eight, 
the ball reduces to the size of an apple. At 
twelve they kill rabbits. By the time they 
begin to wear clothes, around fourteen, they 
pot wary game--wild turkeys, paisanos, 
quail. 

Theirs is the only archery that I have 
seen. But they do one thing that I have 
never seen pictured or read about. All the 
illustrations that I have ever noticed show 
the man behind the bow grasping it with 
the thumb and four fingers. These Kicka- 
poo do not do that. They hold it with the 
thumb and three fingers of the left hand, 
the index finger held out straight ahead, 
pointing directly at the target. It is a nat- 
ural method of aiming. Oh, boy, and how 
they do aim! Ep WOLFF. 


Summer in the Little Garden 


UMMER is the time for pure enjoyment 
of the garden, for it is during the warm 
months that one can expect to be able to 
sit in the garden as well as work in it. It 
is then that the seats in the garden will be 
used, that the shadows cast by tree or shrub 
will be noticed and enjoyed in the morning 
and in the evening; and then it is that cer- 
tain fine flowers open for the first and only 
time during the three seasons, such as roses, 
hollyhocks, delphiniums, phloxes and lilies. 
Instead of suggesting what to plant in 
order to have plenty of color in flowers in 
the summer garden, it occurs to me to 
describe a little garden near me which is 
certainly one of the finest small gardens 
that can be seen. This garden lies on the 
northeast corner of a lot about one hundred 
and fifty feet by two hundred. The garden 
itself is about fifty-six feet long by thirty 
wide. Its flowers are all in borders three or 
four feet wide, surrounding an oblong cen- 
ter of grass, except immediately in the 
center of the whole, where the border runs 
in on each side of a little grass walk and 
forms a six-sided center of turf where stands 
a bird bath on a slim pedestal. 

At the two ends of the whole the borders 
also turn at right angles to flank at the east 
end a lovely green-painted archway into 
which is built a seat; and at the west end, 
the borders turn and follow the line of a 
high brick wall which runs from the house 
north to the edge of the property. In this 
wall is a green-painted gate to balance the 


arch at the west end. Another of those at- 
tractive wooden bowers, shall I call them, 
for they are hung with roses, Silver Moon 
and Dr. Van Fleet in June— another stands 
halfway down the garden on its north side, 
and opposite that is the entrance to the 
garden, a trellised gate in a long fence of 
green trellis work, whereon rambler roses 
are very nicely used. Beyond the corner 
where this garden lies and outside of its 
owner’s ground the gardens owner has a 
problem. There was, there still is there to 
the north and east such a collection of aged 
barns and sheds as is seldom seen. What 
should be done to hide these, for no garden 
could be thought of if they were not blotted 
out? Lombardy poplars were planted in- 
side along a high board fence on these two 
sides of the garden. They were set four 
feet apart. Today they stand fifty to sixty 
feet high and form a magnificent bulwark of 
green against the hideous sights beyond. 
Their roots are kept in check toward the 
flower borders by sinking boards on edge, 
and no one would think that such a charm- 
ing garden could possibly be made with 
such trees close by. Work and watching 
have conquered; and even the poplars per- 
form their part well without encroaching on 
the borders. 

The variety of flowers in this garden in 
midsummer is very remarkable. Regal 
lilies stand with as many as eight blooms 
to the stalk against the finest types of tall 
light-blue delphiniums; a little later be- 
tween and in front of the poplars may be 
seen in August buddleias and artemesia 
lactiflora blooming almost six feet high. 
Below these plants are late phloxes in pink, 
lavender and white, light yellow zinnias, 
deep violet petunias. Then come annual 
asters, stocks, ageratum in plenty, sweet 
alyssum, stachys lanata with its gray 
leaves, and beautiful violas. Thalictrums, 
especially that beautiful variety called by 
the lengthy name of dipterocarpum, have 
given beauty to these little borders in their 
time: Gypsophilas, Canterbury Bells, won- 
derful delphiniums have lighted the gar- 
den and many other earlier things. Suffice 
it to say that within a very small space and 
in an unpromising exposure lies a garden 
which is lovely from June to October 
bulbs are not used within the garden—and 
which, though a constant care to the owner, 
who does practically all the work in it ex- 
cept the mowing, gives a rich reward. 

It is true that the great poplars have this 
garden at a disadvantage. Their shade to 
the east is a great objection; on the other 
hand, this garden would not be the picture 
it is today if those great green shafts of 
foliage did not inclose it as they do. This 
garden was made against discouragement. 
I have never seen a poorer location in 
which to expect flowers to thrive. But it is 
a little triumph in gardens. It is a charm- 
ing picture from whichever angle it is seen 
and especially when looked at from upper 
windows. It finally disposes of the argu- 
ment that gardens, lovely little gardens, 
cannot be created in unlikely spots. 

To the man or woman who is bound to 
have a garden, the fact that their land may 
not look like the place in which to make 
such gardens as they have seen and cov- 
eted should not dismay them. If land is 
rocky, think of a rock garden; if it is sandy, 
remember the types and kinds of plants, 
trees and shrubs that like sand; if it is un- 
even, welcome the chance for terracing; if 
it is so wet that no artificial drainage will 
thoroughly drain it, there are beautiful bog 
plants which will make pictures—let us 
hope for the sake of the house itself—at the 
farther end of the lot. If the climate is too 
hot and dry for many flowers, remember 
that trees, hedges, green squares of grass 
are almost the best possessions under such 
conditions, and that it is not at all essential 
to have flowers in order to have a place that 
can properly be called a garden. 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Bawawna Pre—or shortcal ge of the most popula 


Ripeness brings flavor to every kind of fruit 


2 - z= when all green 1s gone from A a ene banana, as wi ripens, turns its — home. Do not put —— 1 the ice chen, for 
starch into fruit sugar. W hen a banana is fully cold interferes with the ripening process. Kee; 


the tip of the banana, and the fost ripe, the starch is almost wholly changed into them in a bowl or dish, and let them ripen at 


t 
fic cks of brown appear in the side fruit sugars, ready to be absorbed into the system. room temperature. 
Make sure of ripeness in bananas. Buy them There are many apy 
gp aaa brings out a better flavor in bananas, by the “hand” or dozen, bananas all year round. Write 


a flavor that, though delicate, is pronounced i and let them ripen at book, “From the Tropics t 


and unmistakable. } contains eighty three banana r “Ipe ind seve 
And when are bananas truly ripe and easiest © green tip ac Se i pnt econ pages of balanced menus. It 

to digest? oi 
When all green is gone, even from the banana INIERUITCO 

tip, and the golden skin is freckled with brown, . 

then this all-fo J fruit is fully ripe, at its best for 

flavor, and truly easy to digest. 


Carbohydrates, as you know, are the starchy BANANA ICE C 


food elements that supply energy. In most A ahead 
starchy foods, the process of digestion first breaks /*! Aire Banana~flecked swith brown 
up the starch into sugars, and then absorbs the favor and nutrition. It maybeeaten fei” Jlavor, Even Muven Jrocer 

¥ = freely by everyone, even adults with desserts Their fruit sugars add 
sugars into the system. weak digestion, as well as very young natural and delicate sweetness. 


iren 





In his abstraction he was moving toward 
the window when he caught his foot against 
one of the pigskin bags, and possibly be- 
cause of the length of his legs, he went over 
sideways before he could catch his balance. 

“Lucky I didn’t twist my ankle,” he 
thought, and suddenly grew more thought- 
ful yet. As the result of his reflections, he 
had a bulky-locking bandage around one of 
his ankles a few minutes later. 

“There!” he nodded, as Barrie might 
have nodded when he had the Admirable 
Crichton do his first trick on the island. 
“That’s a good excuse for staying in—a 
sprained ankle. A clever bit of business, 
though I say it myself.” And his mind 
turning to another problem which had been 


subconsciously working there, he darkly, al- , 


most gloomily, added, “If it were only as 
easy to work out some way of making 
money! And I’m sure it ought to be easier 
than writing plays.” 

Not only that, you see, but it would give 
him time to write his plays, to say nothing 
of traveling pleasantly around the world in 


search of plots and characters. There aay 


been a time when he had vaguely wondere 
whether his relationship to old M. J. might 
some day give him his freedom; but since 
then his uncle had married a young wife, 
and the newly crowned king of copper now 
had two royal princesses to share his king- 
domyafter him. 

“No,” thought Mell, looking back at the 
disappearing sky line of the city. “If I 
eter make any money—real money, I 
mean—lI’ve got to make it myself.” 

Still looking back at the disappearing sky 
line of the city, he found his eyes being held 
by the tallest office building that has ever 
approached the clouds, a building so high 
that those on one side of the tower can al- 
most see that straddling lobster of the sky 
arise in the east, while those in the west 
still see him split upon the plate of evening. 
By which again the sun is meant. 

“Chain stores,’ thought Mell, staring 
back at the tower—‘‘yes, sir, they always 
seem to pay. If I could only think of some- 
thing like that, a new kind of a chain 
store 44 

Frowning ‘a little, he pushed a chair to 
the desk; and drawing a sheet of paper 
frem the rack, it wasn’t long before he was 
sit wly, reflectively writing—‘‘ United Shoe 
Store Company.” 

“No he said, shaking his head and 
crossing that out, ‘‘they have those.” 

Sitting there, thinking, dreaming, brood- 
ing, old habit triumphed over the new, and 
before he had caught himself, he had 
written: 


ANGELA (advancing to broken window): 
Another night like this and I shall go mad. 
With increasing horror): Oh, what is this 


I see? 


It was then that Mell had caught himself 
thinking, ‘‘ Not quite like Barrie,’”’ and he 
crossed that out too. 

“Darn it!’? he muttered to himself. 

“United Hat Store Company,” was his 
next attempt. 

“No,” he presently said with a sigh. 
“They have those too.” 

He was still at it when Gill came in half 
an hour later to see if the letters were ready 
for the pilot. Two sheets of paper lay on 
the floor covered with crossed-out lines; 
and Mell had just slowly, reflectively writ- 
ten the word “ United ” and was wait- 
ing for inspiration to come and give him its 
flaming cue. 

4 
“(NOD bless my life, sir!” exclaimed old 
Rosy-Nose almost before he had shut 
the door. ‘“’Ave you gone and ’urt your 
ankle?” 

“Yes,” said Meli, again trying his best to 
look old. 

**Shall I fetch the surgeon?’ 

“No, no. A few days’ rest will put it 
right again.”’ And hoping that it didn't 
sound as false to Gill as it did to him, he 


’ 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


Al TEMPORARY MILLIONAIRE 


(Continued from Page 21) 


added, ‘It kept me back with my letters 
though. I shan’t be able to send them off 
with the pilot, after all.” 

Old Gill fussed around, moving the bags, 
making sure there were plenty of towels in 
the bathroom, straightening chairs which 
didn’t need straightening; and all the time 
sewing bits of news together with the briskly 
moving shuttle of his tongue. 

“A nice stateroom, this,’ he said once, 
“and quite a favorite with nobby young 
honeymooners. In fact, among us stewards, 
sir, we often give it the name of Cupid’s 
Bower.” 

“Oh?” said Mell; and although he pre- 
tended not to be impressed, he suddenly 
felt a quickening interest in his surround- 
ings. 

“‘Aye,” said Gill. ‘‘Not many honey- 
mooners aboard this voyage, so far as I’ve 
seen yet, but a very fine passenger list, for 
all that. I’ll bring you a copy when I fetch 
your lunch. Two movie actresses—one 
with a monkey for a pet with a face like a 
sad old man’s, and another eating raw car- 


.tots for her complexion, and I hope they'll 


do her good. And then there’s a bishop 
or two, and a nobleman or two, and Tod 
Evans the jockey, and Battling Goldstein, 
the lightweight champion. And up here on 
C Deck, they’re calling it Billionairé’s Row 
already in the smoke room, what with 2 
committee of bankers going over to study 
French finances, and another committee of 
coal and oil magnets going to some inter- 
national conference where things aren’t 
quite so dry, I expect, as they are in the 
Uo. A.” 

It was the word “‘ magnets”’ which caught 
Mell’s attention as he bent over his sheet of 
paper still looking at “‘ United ——-”’ afraid 
of giving Gill the encouragement of an un- 
divided attention. Magnets—the word 
mildly amused him—magnets who drew 
profits—coal and oil magnets—coal and 
oil —— 

And then, ever so dimly at first, he 
thought he began to see it—a chain con- 
cern selling coal and oil, with offices and 
store yards all over the country; stove coal 
and furnace coal, kerosene oil and furnace 
oil, gasoline, too, perhaps—selling some- 
thing, you understand, which everybody 
bought, and able to sell it cheaper than 
anybody else. 

“Why, a company like that could buy up 
the output of whole coal mines,” he told 
himself with an increasing glow of excite- 
ment. ‘Or we'd even mine our own coal, 
and we'd own our own coal cars, too, and 
our own tank cars for the oil. And we'd 
open offices all over the country; and say 
each office only made five thousand a year, 
and we had a thousand offices!”’ 

He was still dreaming away after his 
luncheon, half oblivious to the steady 
tramp, tramp, tramp of the promenading 
passengers outside, when a knock sounded 
on his door. 

“Come in!” he cried, thinking it was 
Gill for the empty dishes. 

The door opened, but instead of the stew- 
ard it was a passenger who looked inside— 
that stately soldier whom Mell had seen 
with the radiant young angel on the prom- 
enade deck—that radiant young angel, you 
may remember, who looked as though she 
might be having her first true glimpse of 
paradise. 

Mell arose and nearly knocked his chair 
over. It is thus perhaps that Corneille 
would have found his feet if Colonel de 
Beauvais had unexpectedly appeared be- 
fore him. It is thus perhaps that Shakspere 
would have arisen if Rosalind’s father had 
suddenly entered his room. 


vi 
IS visitor, Meil told himself later, 
looked even more distinguished closely 
at hand than at a distance. Seen through 
the window of Cupid’s Bower, he had been 
an imposing total, but now the details 
began to stand out—the excellence of his 


tailoring with a suspicion of braid here and 
there, the piqué edging of his waistcoat, the 
perfect fit of his smoke-colored gaiters, the 
faint suspicion of a scent which was some- 
times like the aroma of Cuba’s choicest 
growing and sometimes like a bowl of tea 
roses in the next room. But the thing which 
appealed to Mell, the future dramatist, 
more than anything else was the underly- 
ing sadness in his visitor’s eyes, the deeply 
furrowed lines above the winged eye- 
brows—the eyes and brow of a man who 
had suffered in his time and had more than 
once stood face to face with tragedy. 

“‘A character! Oh, but isn’t he a char- 
acter!” exulted Mell to himself. 

“T beg your pardon,” began the visitor 
in a drawling voice that was, nevertheless, 
pleasantly touched with solicitude, ‘I trust 
I am not intruding?” 

“‘Not at all,’”’ said Mell; and, indeed, 
what else could he say? “ Wait, I’ll turn 
that chair around.” 

In fact, he might have forgotten his ankle 
completely if his visitor had not reminded 
him. 

“T’ll do it,” said the latter. ‘Please 
don’t attempt to rise. I—ah—I felt I 
ought to call, though, when I heard one of 
the stewards saying that you had sprained 
your ankle. Mr. Melvin MacCloud 
of copper fame, I believe I have the honor 
of addressing.” 

“Melvin MacCloud=yes,” said our tem- 
porary millionaire, efter an almost imper- 
ceptible pause; and again, indeed, what 
else could he say? 

“TI thought so from the steward’s re- 
marks. Permit me. Major Murchison is 
my name, late of His Majesty’s household. 
My card, sir. Oh, pardon; that is 
the card of a very dear friend of mine—Vis- 
count Windham. Also of ours. Ah, here 
we have it. Patience, you see. My card, 
ag 
“I’m happy to meet you, major,” said 
Mell, a bit uncertainly, beginning to won- 
der what he ought to do. 

“The honor is mine,” said the other, 
with another gracious bow. ‘‘ And now, sir, 
to my errand. I lived in India for many 
years, and there I made the acquaintance 
of an extraordinary liniment which I nearly 
always carry with me on my travels. Un- 
fortunately I happened to be out of it at 
the moment; but as soon as I heard of your 
accident I went to the ship’s doctor and 
had him prepare a small bottle according 
to my prescription. And now, sir, if you 
wiil allow me ——”’ 

“That’s awfully good of you, major,” 
said Mell, taking the bottle and wondering 
if he looked as guilty as he felt. “I'll try 
it later, when I take the bandage off, you 
know.” And to change the subject for 
more reasons than one, he added, “‘ You are 
traveling alone?” 

“No, sir,”’ said the major. “‘I have been 
to America to fetch my daughter. My late 
wife having been a native of your wonder- 
ful country, it was one of her last wishes 
that Marjorie, our daughter, should be edu- 
cated there, to get her away from the— 
er—er—conditions and climate of the East, 
you understand.” 

If Mell had been watching more closely — 
as a detective inspector might have watched, 
for instance, while listening to a stranger’s 
story—he might have noticed a momen- 
tary change of expression in the major’s 
eyes, a look that wasn’t far from being 
evasive. 

But it disappeared nearly as soon as it 
showed itself, and the major cleared his 
throat with a ringing soldierly sound. 

“And now, sir,”” he continued, ‘“‘to the 
second part of my errand. To be confined 
to one’s room aboard ship—that is, I have 
discovered, the last degree of boredom. 
And so, sir, I have called—partly called, 
that is—this and the liniment together— 
to suggest that after dinner tonight, I might 
possibly drop in with a friend or two. There 
are some very interesting people aboard, 


, 


August 14,1926 


and—ah—a few rounds of bridge, perhaps, 
might help you pass the time.” 

Again if Mell had been that detective 
inspector aforesaid, it might have occurred 
to him that the major’s manner was just a 
few points too studiedly careless, that his 
glance was just the least shade too innocent 
to be natural. But Mell, you see, had 
thoughts of his own to keep his mind busy 
at that moment. For one thing, he was 
traveling incommunicado; and although 
he could not very well have guarded himself 
against the manner in which the major had 
entered his room—you will remember he 
had thought it was Gill who was knock- 
ing—he certainly had no intention of giving 
a bridge party. 

“Of course the major’s all right,’’ he 
rapidly thought. ‘‘ He’s English and doesn’t 
count. But if some of these American mil- 
lionaires were to drop in with him, there 
might be one who had met Uncle Mel- 
vin. No; the major’s all right, 
and—and ‘a 

He drew a deep breath before following 
up the inspired suggestion which had just 
arisen in his mind. 

“Does your daughter play bridge, ma- 
jor?” he asked, trying to look innocent 
himself. ‘ 

““Well—ah—I believe slightly,” said the 
major, startled for a moment out of his 
customary composure. 

“That’s all right then,’’ said Mell more 
comfortably. “I’m no expert either. So if 
you and Miss Murchison have nothing bet- 
ter to do this evening ie 

The major arose and bowed, and more 
than ever his eyebrows might have re- 
minded you of the wings of a dark bird. 

“Until eight o’clock, then, sir,’’ said he. 

He half bowed, half saluted, and the door 
of Cupid’s Bower closed behind him. For 
as long as it might take you to count ten, 
Mell stood there staring at the closed door, 
and then suddenly drawing the keys from 
his pocket, he strode to the pigskin bags. 


vil 


ORTUNATELY, his uncle’s dinner 

jacket fitted Mell none too badly—a 
shade too full beneath the arms, perhaps, a 
thought too loose across the back. But both 
these faults were on the right side; and 
when Mell found that the trousers were 
right in length, so long as they weren’t 
pulled up too tightly, and that the gener- 
osity of the waistband was concealed by the 
waistcoat, he smiled his slow and serious 
smile, and looking in the mirror, he sud- 
denly found himself saying the word, “‘ Pre- 
destined!” 

By that time it was nearly three and the 
Patrician was plowing well out at sea. A 
June afternoon, you understand, with just 
enough breeze to be pleasant and just 
enough sea to make the ship feel as though 
she had springs in her keel. The sky was 
turquoise, but there isn’t a jewel known to 
man which would tell you how blue and 
clean and dark the ocean looked. Standing 
near his window in his own clothes again 
and peeping through an opening in the 
curtains, Mell watched the crowded deck 
and the sea beyond till it was all he could 
do to keep from stalking out and taking 
part in the procession himself. 

‘IT don’t see how it could make any dif- 
ference,” he thought. ‘‘Nobody would 
know me.” 

But that, of course, was madness and 
soon passed. For one thing, he had prom- 
ised his uncle that he would stay in his 
room; and for another thing, both Gill and 
the major knew him; and if they saw him 
they would think it queer, to say the least, 
that his ankle had mended so soon. So pres- 
ently Mell sat down to his desk, and there, 
following the forms which he had seen at his 
uncle’s office, he frowningly began writing: 
“Prospectus. United Coal and Oil Co. A 
Sales Corporation. Capital—estimated— 
$10,000,000.” 

Continued on Page 111) 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





Mothers asked for this _———— 
soft, soothing tissue’. ~ = —~ 4 





— 
_ — ——«<«, 


as old Linen 


TRADE MARK REG US PATENT OFFICE AND 
’ ‘ pamce 


PY The absorbent $0" 
white Toilet pape 


For years, mothers have been seeking a toilet tissue 
that was soft, pure, absorbent and absolutely safe for So ft 
children. They now have it in ScotTissue. Made to 





mothers’ specifications—snowy white, hygienically 
pure, kind to the most sensitive skin. Ask your 
| doctor. 


ScotTissue belongs in every perfectly appointed 
bathroom for the comfort and well-being of every mem- 
ber of the family. Easy to buy—just say “ScotTissue™. 












Scott Paper Company 


Stoo GRester. Pa. U.S.A 
Sa”, SHE 










SHEETS —— 4% x5 INCHES a 
neat —©S.P. Co 


—— ee 


15 cents a roll 
Our Offer 























SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 





Sedan *895—Special Sedan #995 
De Luxe Sedan #1075 
f. o. b. Detroit 








It is a fact well known that the name 
DODGE BROTHERS is more valuable 
than the vast and expanding works 
in which Dodge Brothers product 
is built. 


DodgeBrothers,Inc.,havesimply kept 
the faith and implicit public confi- 
dence has been their reward. 


Year after year the car has continued 
to mature into a better and better 
product. 


Costly chrome vanadium steel was 
the basic metal employed in the be- 
ginning, and it is the basic metal em- 
ployed today—in larger measure 
than in any other motor car built. 


The first automobile to leave Dodge 
Brothers Works—a Touring Car— 
was equipped with an all steel body. 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





And during the past few years, Dodge 
Brothers have perfected this superior 
construction for ALL their motorcars. 


Beauty has been added to dependa- 
bility, comfort and silence to beauty. 
Endless refinements have been made. 
Prices have been reduced. 


But always in every instance, the 
quality of every detail has been main- 
tained or improved. 


Theconsistent goodness of the car has 
attracted a steadily expanding market. 
Wider markets have permitted a 
better and better product at lower and 
lower cost. Dodge Brothers progress 
has been conservative and logical. 


The result isaGOOD NAME, worthy 
of the public trust it inspires, and too 
priceless ever to jeopardize. 


DonGe BROTHERS, INC. DETROIT 


Dooce Brotwers (CANADA) LiMiTED 
TORONTO, ONTARIO 





ODGE HROTHERS 


MOTOR @ CARS 









110 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


WIVES! read this 
to your tasbands 


S your husband a business 

i man? Then he has #s¥ type- 
writers, i} telephones and |“ 
bookkeeping machines to help 
him do his work quicker, easter 
and better. 


IS your husband a farmer? 
Then he has a 2% riding plow, 
a <#@ Cultivator, a @@ farm en- 
gine, to help him do his work 
quicker, easier and better. 


IS your husband a factory man? 
Then he has all sorts of an 
automatic machinery to help 
him do his work quicker, easier 
and better. 


Wherever men work they are 
helped by highly developed time 


and labor saving machinery. 


The business of dus home- 
keeping... your business. . . is 
more essential, more compli- 
cated,more tiresome and more 


troublesome than any man’s. 


You deserve the very latest 
developments in time 
saving, trouble saving and 
work saving housekeeping 
tools... equipment to enable 
you to do your work ~~) quick- 
er, easier and better. 


In other words, you deserve a com- 
plete set of Fuller Brushes. & 


LET 


Next time the Fuller Man 
comes toyour house see all the 
latest helps the Fuller organ- 
ization has developed for you. 


FULLER BRUSHES 
simplify the business of 
Flomekee ping 


If you want to see the Fuller Man 
before his regular call, telephone 
The Fuller Brush Co. Branch in 
your city, or write us at 1058 
Windsor Ave., Hartford Conn., 
asking for the “Handy Brush 
Book.” (In Canada, Fuller Brush 
\ teh far beth gs Co., Ltd., Hamilton, Ont.) 
y 











(Continued from Page 106 

In some strange way this eased him 
gave him a feeling of dignity, a sense of 
superiority over those dawdlers who were 
prancing up and down a deck and thinking 
this was life. Presently, too, though some- 
what absent-mindedly, he did a few pages 
of Angela’s Vigil. 

Gill brought his dinner at half-past six, 
and also a roll of bandage cloth from the 
doctor’s office. Mell’s homemade affair, 
you will realize, had been good enough for 
the daytime—a noble cocoon which had 
slipped down and looked now as though it 
were associated with the gout; but for 
evening wear, and the company of a radiant 
young angel who had blushed when he 
smiled at her, he decided that a few rolls 
of narrow cloth, barely perceptible under 
the sheen of his hose, would serve the pur- 
pose quite as well. And although he limped 
a little when he answered the major’s knock 
at eight o’clock, he tried to make it an in- 
teresting limp; but his foot didn’t hippety- 
hop half so much as his heart did when he 
saw the major’s daughter, a truly celestial 
vision in white silk, with lace-covered pan- 
niers such as probably angels wear when 
they are very blessed indeed. 

“‘Oh!” she said, as soon as her eyes fell 
upon Mell; and she gave her father a 
glance which said, ‘‘Haven’t you knocked 
at the wrong door?”’ 

“My dear,” said the major, “‘I am proud 
to introduce you to Mr. MacCloud.” 

*“Oh—Mr. MacCloud,”’ she murmured; 
and raising her eyebrows, she curtsied a lit- 
tle in her panniers before taking Mell’s 
hand. There was a gloomy young man 
watching all this from the corridor—one of 
those sour-faced, sallow-cheeked disciples 
of success who always look as though their 
mouths are filled with lemons whenever 
they see a bit of gallantry; and Mell was 
about to shut the door when the major 
stepped forward. 

“‘Ah, Mr. Massey,” said the major. “I 
take great pleasure—Mr. Melvin Mac- 
Cloud, of your own wonderful city. Mr. 
Massey,” continued the major, “‘is con- 
nected with one of your great banks and 
has just been appointed manager of the 
London branch. We are honored to have 
him at our table; and so tonight when I 
chanced to mention that we were to meet 
you here for bridge ——”’ 

Young Sour-Face spoke then, evidently 
priding himself upon his ability for getting 
his facts straight. 

“Did I understand the major rightly,” 
he asked, ‘‘when he said that you were 
Mr. MacCloud, the new president of Nar- 
ragansett Copper?” 

Mell didn’t like that. With all his faults, 
he had no particular relish for the lie direct. 
So, thinking quickly, he fell back upon a 
device which was known to the schoolmen 
of the Middle Ages as beating the devil 
around the stump. 

“I believe the major generally knows 
what he’s talking about,”’ said he. 

“‘But—pardon me, I thought you were 
an older man.” 

““So my steward had the pleasure of in- 
forming me,” said the serious young author 
of Angela’s Vigil—(speaking with a touch 
of hauteur). 

You could see that Sour-Face wasn’t any 
too pleased at being classed with Gill. 

“You haven’t been in New York long, 
I believe,” he said, as though trying to 
excuse himself for not having met the new 
copper king before. 

“About a month,” said 
speaking somewhat coldly). 

‘Ah, that’s it,’’ said Mr. Massey, and he 
put a pinch of sugar among his lemons, 
though still rather wry in his smile. “I’m 
pleased to meet you, Mr. MacCloud, and I 
hope that I shall have the pleasure of doing 
business with you in London. But I had 
it so firmly fixed in my mind that you were 
older — sf 

They played bridge— Marjorie and Mell 
cutting for partners. Both the major and 
Mr. Massey played well, the major at times 
showing flashes of form which bordered 
upon the classical. 


Mell—(still 


“T like you for a partner,” said Marjorie 
once to Mell. ‘You never scold me.” 

“Scold you?” said Mell; and if he had 
tried, he couldn’t have kept back a queer 
little tremor in his voice. ‘‘I wouldn't 
scold you if you trumped my ace.” 

The next hand, her color heightening a 
little, she trumped his ace. 

“That's nice!’’ breathed Mell. 

You ought to have seen young Sour-Face. 
“Something funny going on here!” he 
seemed to be telling himself with renewed 
suspicion. 

“There!” said Marjorie to Mell. “Now 
we're even.” Referring, of course, to the 
way in which he had smiled at her through 
the window and had made her blush. 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Mell, his voice 
still a bit queer. 

“Funny!” you could see young Sour- 
Face thinking. “Funny!” 

At ten o’clock Mell rang for refresh- 
ments; and possibly wishing to shine as 
brightly as possible in front of Marjorie, he 
told them about his scheme for selling coal 
and oil more cheaply than anyone else 
could doit. Mr. Massey, of course, listened 
sourly; but the major didn’t. The more 
the major heard, the more closely his eye- 
brows seemed to knit together, the more 
reflectively he stroked his long mustache. 

“I think you have a good idea there,”’ he 
said at last. “In fact, I don’t mind telling 
you that, after leaving His Majesty’s serv- 
ice, my first activities were in the field of 
promotion. Of course, in America you are 
not so well up in rubber as we are; but 
Abdullah, Ltd., and Caoutchouc United 
I had a hand in both of those. And Larra- 
bee, Ltd., the famous chain of London 
restaurants—that was another flotation in 
which I assisted, paying dividends now of 
more than a million sterling, and essen- 
tially based, I don’t mind confessing, on 
nothing more tangible than a new and dis- 
tinctive style of restaurant decoration. 
But this idea of yours is built upon a much 
sounder foundation. In fact, I—ah—I 
should like very much to see what I could 
do in the matter—subject to your ap- 
proval, I need not say, and committing you 
to nothing in advance.” 

While talking, he had unconsciously been 
playing with one of the packs of cards, 
parting them, riffling them, patting them 
back into place, his fingers flashing around 
them with the touch of a Paderewski at his 
Minuet. Toward the end he was, without 
noticing it himself, riffing the whole deck 
and pushing it together again without 
letting a card touch the table, a gift which 
has been giver 6nly to the chosen few. 
Young Sour-Face @idn’t miss any of this, 
and you could almost see him thinking, 
“Funny! Funny! I felt it from the first.” 

““What do you think of Mr. MacCloud’s 
idea?” asked the major, suddenly turning 
to him. “Don’t you think it sounds well?” 

Mr. Massey pursed his lips, and it was 
easy to see that nobody was going to get 
any nourishment out of him. 

“It may sound well,” he said, “but it 
isn’t on sound that the success of a good 
idea depends. It depends upon character, 
sir—the character of the men behind it.” 

He looked at the major, and the major 
approvingly nodded and stroked his long 
mustache. He looked at Mell and Mell 
began to blush, and knew he was blushing, 
but for the life of him couldn’t stop it. 
And finally young Sour-Face looked at 
Marjorie, and Marjorie looked back at 
him, oh, so innocently. Mell’s. foot had 
jyst touched her own beneath the table, 
and a girl can seldom look as innocent as 
when she is wondering whether a thing like 
that is being done by accident or design. 


vilr 


FTER his guests had left, Mell wrote a 
species of poetry till nearly one: To 
Marjorie M. My Heart Is a Ship on the 
Ocean of Love and Your Eyes are a Light- 
house. For which at least you must give 
him credit fer the nautical slant of his 
muse. And in the morning perhaps you 
can guess whether he stood by the window 
of Cupid’s Bower as soon as the parade 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


started and kept a watchful eye on the deck 
outside. 

It was half-past ten when Marjorie ap- 
peared, in a coral hat and sweater and a 
white scarf and skirt; and although she 
was looking over the rail as though admir- 
ing the blueness of the ocean, there was an 
increasing brightness in her eyes as she 
approached a certain window—a bright- 
ness not altogether due perhaps to the re- 
flection of the sun. 

“Good morning!” called Mell through 
his open window. 

She was so surprised at this greeting 
from the young copper magnate. ‘Why, 
good morning!" she said, opening her eyes 
very wide. And stopping in fronf of his 
window, as though just for a moment or 
two, she added, “‘ How’s your foot?” 

“It needs company,” he said, and 
couldn’t help thinking that his answer was 
rather good. Of course you know what 
she told him. ‘Yes, I know it has the 
other one,”’ he replied, “‘but they both 
need company. And so do I, kept in here 
like a—like a bird in a cage.” 

She told him he ought to whistle. 
can be very saucy at a time like this. 

“I have been whistling,’ confessed the 
future American Barrie. ‘That is, if writ- 
ing poetry is whistling.” 

“What have you been writing about?” 
she asked with another of her innocent 
looks. 

“About you,” he said. 

She did a funny thing then. She closed 
her eyes and walked around in two small 
circles, leaning far in toward the center of 
these circles and looking every moment as 
though she might fall upon the deck in a 
fit of dizziness. And this is the strange 
part of it: Instead of closing his window 
and drawing his curtains in manly dignity, 
Mell looked a bit sheepish, but watched her 
in tender admiration as a fond parent will 
sometimes watch his child. 

She went on with the parade then, walk- 
ing with that joyous little swagger which 
seemed to be all her own; but the second 
time she came around she stayed longer, 
and the third time she settled herself in 
Mell’s steamer chair by the side of his win- 
dow and they had the happiest visit. Be- 
fore they knew it, the bugler was blowing 
for luncheon, and the major came march- 
ing out of the smoke room as though he 
had done a good morning’s business. 

**Ah, there you are!”’ he said, catching 
sight of his daughter. ‘Good morning, 
Mr. MacCloud. I had meant to look you 
up before, sir, but I have been rather busy 
this morning. By the way, have 
you made any engagements for this eve- 
ning?” 

“Not if you and Miss Murchison will 
play bridge with me again.” 

“‘Splendid!”’ exclaimed the major. ‘‘ Per- 
sonally, I would like nothing better, and I 
think I can persuade my little daughter.” 

Mell watched them out of sight 
cially the one in the coral scarf and the 
white stockings 
ond thought which generally comes to sons 
of Adam at such times. 

“That’s right,” he thought. 


Girls 


~—espe- 


“TI ought 


and then he had that sec- | 


to have told him not to bring anybody else. | 


Still, even if he does bring Gloomy Gus 


again, I don’t see how it makes any differ- 


ence now.” 
But the unexpected appearance of Mr. 


Massey the previous night was nothing to | 


the surprise which awaited Mell MacCloud 
when he cried ‘‘Come in!” at eight o’clock 
that evening in answer to the major's 
knock. In the corridor behind his visitor 
were four elderly gentlemen, all of them 
evidently persons of importance; and by 
the side of this male quartet stood young 
Sour-Face; looking, if anything, more 
skeptical than ever, but apparently de- 
termined. not te miss any of the show. 


ha 1x 
““NOQD evening, Mr. MacC}oud,” said 
the- major in his stateli€#® manner 
“Don’t get up, sir, I. beg of I have 


taken the.epportunity of brisigitig a few 
(Continued on Page 113 


Pittsburgh is 
Creeping Up 
on South Bend 


OME time ago we had a 

report from South Bend, 
Ind., that 93 per cent of the 
coal dealers there used Red 
Edge Scoops. That made our 
Pittsburgh representatives a 
bit sore. They went out on a 
still hunt among the leading 
dealers of the Smoky City. 


“80 per cent of the dealers 


we called on,” Pittsburgh 
reported, ‘“‘aré using Red 
Edge. And the same thing 


holds true in Beaver Fails, 
Sharon and New Castie. Give 
us a little more time and 
we'll show up that South 
Bend bunch.” 


Why do coal dealers display such a 
marked preference for a particular 
make of shovel? For one reason, 
it’s because a Red Edge outwears 
two or three ordinary shovels. But 
there’s another. 
F 

The coal dealer's profit lies betw&en 
““cost at the mines”’ and “cost to- 
the consumer.’’ These are pretty 
well fixed. But every cént he 
saves in cost of handling is so much 
Velvet. And Red Edge Shovels 
are noted for their labor-saving 
qualities. Ask us why. Or, better 
still, try out half a dozen and see. 


THE W¥@MING SHOVEL 


KS 
WYOMING, PA. 


WYOMING 


RED 
Bele 


SHOVELS 


We spent 50 years 
learning to make one 
grade of Shovel 


REG. U.S.PAT OFF. 


a he 


“RED EDGE 








RED EDGE 


RED EDGE 


RED EDGE 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 

















Phint White 


or light colors 


EAGLE 


Pure WHITE LEAD 


OLD DUTCH PROCESS 


ES 


August 14,1926 


Cheerful beauty 


AT LOW COST 
with 


WhileLeaded 
Sunfaces 


Fe magna environment 
is a great tonic for nerves 
that need vacation rest and play. 
It is surprising how important 
to its achievement is the fresh 
enduring beauty of White- 
leaded surfaces— painted white 
or in attractive light colors with 
Eagle Pure White Lead. 

If white lead were very ex- 
pensive it would still be the 
most economical paint, it wears 
so long. But Eagle Pure White 
Lead is inexpensive in first cost, 
besides being long wearing. 
When a too pound keg of 
Eagle, in paste form, is mixed 
by your painter with pure lin- 
seed oil, it makes about seven 
gallons of the finest pure 
white lead paint. And the cost 
is no more—often less—than 
many paints containing other 
materials. 

Eagle may be quickly tinted 
any color desired. It is tough, 
elastic and non-cracking, offer- 
ing the protection of metallic 
lead from which it is produced 
by the famous Old Dutch 
Process. 

Fagle in use since 1843— 
is sold by leading dealers. 


Employ a good painter- 
Good painters use Eacur 


‘The 
EAGLE-PICHER 


LEAD COMPANY 
134 NORTH LA SALLE STREET 
CHICAGO 
ELEVEN PLANTS 
BRANCHES IN ALL PRINCIPAL CITIES 











(Continued from Page 111) 
gentlemen who have been good enough to 
indicate their interest in—ah—your pro- 
jected enterprise. Two of these are them- 
selves in the colliery business— Mr. Young 
and Mr. Schureman. And the two others 
Mr. Dixon and Mr. Olson—are interested 
in oil. Gentlemen, I have the honor to 
introduce you to Mr. MacCloud. . . . 
Mr. Massey, of course, you already know.” 

If thoughts could have killed, the major 
would at least have been carried away 
wounded; but, knowing nothing of the 
lethal volleys which Mell was silently 
showering upon him, the major arranged 
chairs for the party and rang for extra camp 
stools, fussing around like a handsome old 
rooster that is finding places where a some- 
what backward flock of hens may lay their 
golden eggs. 

“*Miss Murchison couldn’t come?”’ asked 
Mell, his voice almost sounding as though 
he had borrowed one of Mr. Massey’s 
limes. 

“For the present, she thought it would 
be too crowded,” said the major, beneath 
his breath; ‘‘but later, when the business 
session is over ——”’ 

The business session lasted an hour, but 
if you had been there, it might have struck 
you that the major was obliged to do most 
of the talking. At the end of the hour, how- 
ever, the four visitors politely agreed that 
the possibilities of the idea might be worth 
investigating upon their return home, where 
facts and figures could be studied more 
closely than out on the deep blue sea. 
Meanwhile, as soon as he had assured him- 
self that none of the four had apparently 
ever met his grim-faced uncle, Mell uncon- 
sciously began casting them for parts in 
those dramas which were never far from the 
surface of his mind. 

Two of the quartet were rather quickly 
placed. Mell wrote in his memory: 

“ Enter MR. SCHUREMAN, one of ANGELA’S 
trustees under her father’s will. He stands 
unmoved while the others are laughing at 
the beadle. Becoming conscious that MR. 
SCHUREMAN has not relaxed the habitual se- 
verity of his expression, the others fall silent, 
uneasily impressed that they are in the pres- 
ence of a superior intellect and not realizing 
that MR. SCHUREMAN is in reality exhibiting 
the chief defect of his character, namely, an 
utter lack of humor.” 


Mr. Olson was somewhat more briefly 
placed: 

““Mr. OLSON made himself appear impres- 
sive by the simple plan of speaking always in 
such a subdued voice that the others were 
obliged to lean forward in order to hear him, 
this giving them the effeet of hanging upon his 
words.” 

Mr. Young took longer, but Mell finally 
gave him this: 

“He lay quiet and watchful, like a deep 
pool inhabited by a number of wise old trout.” 

And of Mr. Dixon: 


“The moment ANGELA sees MR. DIXON 
she likes him. There is a friendliness, a hope- 


fulness in his manner which appeals to her. 


He has a book under his arm which she 
presently discovers to be a volume of Robert 
Louis Stevenson, and from that moment there 
is a bond between them which cannot easily 
be broken.” 


Throughout the major’s talk, Mr. Mas- 
sey remained on the fence. He wouldn't 
say he was interested and he wouldn’t say 
he wasn’t. 

“I’d like to think it over further,” he 
said, his eye first on the major and then on 
Mell. ‘‘There are one or two points which 
are not yet clear in my mind.” 

At nine o’clock the visitors adjourned 
to the smoke room and the major went for 
his daughter. They played bridge then till 
eleven—two heavenly hours for Mell, who 
was rapidly approaching that blissful stage 
which comes to every man sooner or later, 
even if it only comes but once; that stage 
where it is enough for him ‘ust to sit there 
and look at her and draw tremulous breaths 





THE SATURDAY 


and marvel at the beauty of life and the 
richness of Nature’s gifts. 

The major took Marjorie to her state- 
room at eleven o’clock, but returned a few 
minutes later and thoughtfully seated him- 
self at the table at which they had been 
playing cards. 

“T—ah—take it, Mr. MacCloud,” he 
said, ‘that you will have the management 
of this new company which you are pro- 
moting?”’ 

“IT hadn’t thought of that particularly,” 
said Mell, blinking his eyes a little. 

“TI think I can arrange it, however,”’ said 
the major, “especially in view of your com- 
mercial successes in other fields. The reason 
I spoke of the matter was this: I have long 
since entertained the possibility of leaving 
my native shores; for to be perfectly frank 
my native shores have not been altogether 
kind to me.” 

Mell saw it again then—the underlying 
sadness in the major’s eyes, the eyes of a 
man who more than once had stood face to 
face with tragedy. 

“But this is the point,”’ continued the 
major, speaking more briskly: “If the 
management of the new company falls on 
you, do you think I could count upon it 
that one of the good positions would be 
open to me?” 

“You bet you could!” said Mell; and 
whether or not he was thinking of Nature’s 
gifts, there was certainly no mistaking the 
sincerity of his voice. 

“You are very kind, sir,”’ said the major, 
bowing across the table in his stately man- 
ner. “And now may I ask when you expect 
to return to the States?” 

“I’m going back on the Patrician.” 

“Quite so.” The major grew thoughtful, 
his winged brows almost meeting. ‘‘In that 
event,”” he presently went on, “I should 
like to return with you; but again, to be 
perfectly frank, some of us in England, you 
know, were not exactly benefited by the 
war—taxes—unexpected expenses—living, 
one might say, from hand to mouth, and not 
always connecting then. In short, sir,”’ he 
continued, his hands unconsciously stray- 
ing to one of the packs of cards, “I’ve been 
wondering if you could advance me a few 
thousand dollars, to pay a number of press- 
ing obligations in London and repay the 
expenses of my return to New York.” 

Our temporary millionaire hesitated be- 
fore replying; but at last, though sadly, it 
simply had to come. 

“I’m afraid not, major,’”’ he said; and 
again there was no mistaking his sincerity. 
“You see, as I am returning at once, I 
brought only a few hundred dollars with 
me. But if that would be any use to 
you ———”’ he more eagerly continued. 

“Thank you; thank you, no,” said the 
major almost hurriedly. ‘ Unfortunately 
I shall need considerably more than that 
and—ah—I think I can get the money else- 
where. But I thought I would ask you first, 
you know, leaving it to fate, as it were, to 
see if I should get the funds in this way 
or~—-ah—another.”’ 

Unobserved by the younger man, he 
lightly patted the backs of the cards as one 
might pat the backs of old friends. 

“You are not annoyed by mry request, I 
hope?” he asked, rising from his chair. 

“Annoyed? My dear sir,” exclaimed 
Mell, ‘‘I only wish I had more money with 
me.” 

“T only wish you had,” said the major 
in a tone so earnest that the young man 
stared a little. And then in his more fa- 
miliar voice the major resumed, “Good 
night, sir. And may I venture to wish you 
pleasant dreams?”’ 

Mell hadn’t been asleep long, though, 
when he awoke with the feeling that some- 
thing was decidedly wrong. 

“T know what I'll do,” he told himself, 
thinking that this was it. “I'll change 
Angela’s name to Marjorie. 

But evidently it wasn’t that, for the 
troubled feeling still persisted. And then 
at last he knew what it was that was bother- 
ing him. 

“I wish I’d been able to lend the major 
that money,” he thought with a sigh. “I 





EVENING POST 


hate to think of the way he spoke, just be- 
fore he said good night.”’ 


x 
HF weather freshened during the night; 
and although the Patrician did her best 
to preserve the even tenor of her way, now 
and then she drove a line of imaginary 
piles with the gigantic hammer of her bow, 
and there wasn’t any parade on the prom- 
enade deck on Friday morning. For one 
thing, the deck was wet; and for another 
thing, it kept pitching up and down and 
rolling from side to side; and in spite of 
the canvas screens which had been laced 
against the rail, an occasional gust of spray 
came sweeping past this barricade and 
made the whole deck glisten. 


“Shewon’t beout thismorning,” mourned | 


Mell at his window. 
He had been working a bit on Angela’s 


Vigil, but he had been up at the window as | 


much as he had been down at the desk. 

“I’m sorry I had to say no to the major 
last night,’’ was his next sad reflection, still 
keeping his eye on the empty deck, “‘es- 
pecially after all he’s done. Then they 
could both have sailed back with me on 
the Patrician. But the way it is now, if he 
can’t raise the money and this storm lasts 
all the way over ———”’ 

He didn’t finish that; the thought seemed 
too dreadful. But his meaning was this: If 
those two things happened, he might not 
see Marjorie again. 

“That reminds me,”’ he sorrowfully con- 
tinued. ‘‘I must tell the major not to bring 
any more callers. The way he’s started, 
he’ll have the whole passenger list in yet, 
if 1 don’t stop him. But if this storm keeps 
up i 

He was interrupted by the loss of his bal- 
ance, the Patrician having suddenly buried 
her bow in the water as though she had 
missed one of those imaginary piles and 
was about to stand on her head. And when 
he returned to the window he was just in 
time to see a graceful little figure come trip- 
ping along the deck, lifting her chin to the 
wind and the spray as though she gloried 
in them. 

“There!” exulted Mell. ‘I knew she’d 
come!” And the next moment he had the 
window open and was kneeling on the writ- 
ing desk. 

They had the nicest visit. She had to 
hang onto his window frame to keep from 
being pitched away. And once the window 
swung from behind and nearly knocked the 
back of his head in. And they simply loved 


it. You know the way young people laugh | 
when they’re happy, and the way they look | 


at each other when they feel that solemn 
dithery feeling inside. And a dozen times 
she said, ‘I must run along now,” and a 
dozen times he pleaded, ‘Oh, don't go yet!”’ 

As if she meant to go! 

And did they talk about the cost of smelt- 
ing copper? Or the curriculum of the school 
for young ladies which she had attended in 
Philadelphia? No; they didn’t talk of 
either of those things. But they talked 
about the major and what a fine old boy 
he was. And they talked about shipwrecks 
and how nice it would be on a desert island 
if the right person were only cast away with 
you. And they talked about right persons, 
and wrong persons, and people who didn’t 
count at all—it seems they had both met 
quite a few of the latter two varieties. 

And they talked about the Charleston, 
and how the girls in school used to dance 
it on the quiet till some of them could 
hardly walk into chapel without flinging 
their feet out sideways. And they talked 
about what they generally had for break- 
fast, and about the differences in the sizes 
of their hands, and about fruit salads, and 
the Prisoner’s Song, and Marion Talley and 
Norman Rockwell and Keats, and taxi 
drivers and how awful it was for Romeo 
after he had drunk poison and then dis- 
covered that Juliet wasn’t dead after all! 

They were both feeling sorry for poor old 
Romeo when a knock sounded on Mell’s 
door; and thinking—as always—that it 


was Gill, Mell shouted ‘‘Come in!’’ The 
door opened and let such a draft through 















Cooling Customers’ 
Heels 15 a 
Costly Operation— 


The best way to douse cold 
water on a customer’s enthu- 
siasm is to keep him waiting, 
while he grows fretful, beats a 
tattoo with his feet, consults 
his watch and gets a bad im- 
pression of your business meth- 
ods. You can find the man 
he wants instantly with an 
Autocall. 

Autocall makes every impor- 
tant individual as quickly avail- 
able as though all were grouped 
at desks in a single room. 
Autocall outruns the fastest 
office boy and helps the speed- 
iest phone operator. Autocall 
is a modern business necessity. 
What is an 
Autocall? al 


Paging 
Service 






is an electri- 
cally-operated sys- 
tem of code-calls by which the 
telephone operator locates any indi- 
vidual without disturbing 
others, and brings him at 
once to the nearest phor 
A dime a day often covers 
the cost. Get all the facts 
Clip coupon to letterhead 


and mail 


re. 








The Autocall Co., 507 Tucker Ave., Shelby, O 


Send data on Paging System and free trial 
Send data on Industrial Fire Alarm Syste 


Send data on Watchmen’s Supervisory Servi 











B 


Telegage 
Accuracy 


Checks "a 


; gallon 
P for 


gallon 


é 


The K-S Telezage 
is standard equipment 
on 15 leading cars. 
As an accessory, it 
can be furnished for 
installation the 
cars listed below. 


$8.50 


Dodge 


on 


Available for 


Jewett 

Jewett ‘New Day” ! 
Buick Standard 6 
Overland 6 

Nash Special 6 

Nash Special 6 

Nash Advanced 6, 1922-25 
Hudson 1921-26 


Essex 6 11 gal. tank only 
Pontiac All 
Ajax All 
Chrysler 58 and © Alli 
Chrysler 70 not equipped 
with dash gauge All 
Chrysler 70 equipped 
with dash gauge All 
Buick Master 6 not 
equipped with dash 
gauge 1924-26 
Buick Master 6 equip- 
ped with dash gauge 
1925-1926 


NN 


And now the. 


Chevrolet! 


Special instructions for 
installation (different 
from other cars because 
it has no float gauge) 
included with every in- 
strument, 


THE SATURDAY 


( 


“When Time 
Is Money” 


“I must be at the office by eleven, 
and only an hour and a half to 
make it! Have we enough gas?” 

“Yes, the Telegage says 11 gallons.” 


OT a minute to waste. The Telegage, with its 

reassuring message, tells you all is well. “Step 

on it,” and never worry. You can “be certain with 
the Telegage.” 

So rapidly has the Telegage been taken up, by car 
owners and car makers, that today the experienced 
motorist would just as soon drive without his horn 
or his headlights, as without his Telegage. Its con- 
venience is obvious, but the real basis of its success 
is its entire dependability. Exact to a fraction of a 
gallon, it tells at a glance how far you can go, when 
to buy gas and how much to order. No moving 
parts to wear out, or to affect its exact operation. 
This test will prove its accuracy. With a gallon meas- 
ure, fill the fuel tank one gallon at a time. The red 
column will rise, line by line, gallon for gallon. 


TWO NEW CARS ADDED 


With the addition of the Nash Light Six, and the Nash 
Special Six, fifteen leading cars now indorse the K-S Telegage 
by including it as standard equipment. Its dependable pro- 
tection is now available as an accessory on many other cars. 
Ask your car dealer about the Telegage. He will install it 
easily and quickly. The tank unit fits in the float gauge open- 
ing, and atemplate (included) makes it simple to fit the Telegage 
on the instrument board. If your car dealer cannot supply you, 
write us. When writing give dealer’s name, model, and year of 
your car, and enclose check for $8.50, the regular retail price. 


KING-SEELEY CORPORATION 
294 SECOND STREET ANN ARBOR, MICH. 


Chicago Branch: 2450 Michigan Boulevard 


"KS teiegag 


E CERTA 








EVENING POST 


the room that it nearly blew Mell off the 
writing desk; and turning to see why Gill 
didn’t close the door, he saw one of the 
ship’s officers standing in the doorway. 
Evidently Marjorie saw him, too, for she 
whispered, “‘Good-by; I’m going,” and the 
next moment the deck—that same deck 
which had just been looking like a sunny 
slope of heaven—suddenly became cold 
and wet again, and inexpressibly empty. 
Mell was glad to close the window to shut 
out such a dreary sight, and then he turned 
to see what the officer wanted. 

“Mr. MacCloud?” began the latter, 
smiling a little and leaning against the door- 

“Yes,” said Mell, vaguely beginning to 
feel from the other’s manner that some- 
thing was wrong. 

“The captain’s compliments, and he 
wishes to see you at once.” 

“But my ankle ——-”’ hesitated Mell, 
swallowing a bit hard. 

“*He’s heard about your ankle, and I’ve 


| been instructed to supply you either with 


crutches or two able-bodied seamen.”’ His 
smile suddenly became a more familiar 
grin. “‘They’ve found you out and your 
number’s up. If I were you, I think I'd 
walk,” said he. 
xI 

““TT’S my fault,” Mell despairingly told 

himself as he followed the officer to the 
captain’s quarters behind the bridge. “One 
of those men last night probably knew 
Uncle Mell, after all, and this morning he 
went and told the captain. What I should 
have done—I should have kept my cabin 
door locked from the time we left the dock.” 

And yet, he reflected, the whole thing 
had happened, it might almost be said, in- 
exorably. The major’s gift of the liniment, 
the proposal to play bridge, the unexpected 
inclusion of Mr. Massey in the party, the 
talk about United Coal and Oil, the major’s 
delegation— these events had befallen, step 
by step, as inescapably as the action of an 
old Greek drama. 

“The only thing to do now,” he thought, 
“is to try to keep them from sending a wire- 
less to New York. If it once gets out in the 
papers that Uncle Mell’s playing possum, 
he might get trapped himself.” 

By that time they had reached the cap- 
tain’s office; and the moment he stepped 
inside, Mell knew that this was no simple 
inquiry which was about to take place. 
The major was there, for instance, as dis- 
tinguished looking as ever, but frowning 
somewhat as he stroked his long mustache. 


| And Mr. Massey was there, his mouth still 


full of lemons, a sourly triumphant gleam 


| in his eye. And the two coal operators were 


there, and the two oil magnates, like an 


| elderly male quartet which had just been 


singing dirges. And seated at a flat-top 
desk was the Patrician’s captain, who 
looked more like a diplomat than a sailor. 
“The captain,’’ thought Mell, sorrow- 
fully enough—/(his cheeks patched with pur- 
ple and his eyebrows grown like two young 


| bushes as though to keep the sun and the rain 
| from the watchful eyes beneath). 


“Mr. MacCloud?” began the captain. 

“Yes, sir,”’ said Mell. 

“May I trouble you for your passport?” 

But this might lead to Uncle Melvin; 
so, after a moment’s thought, Mell said, 
“I’m sorry, captain; but I have none.” 

“What? No passport?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Then how do you expect to land?”’ 

“T don’t expect to land. I intend to re- 


| turn on the Patrician.” 


You ought to have seen young Sour-Face 
then; he almost smacked his lips. 
“They probably live on these boats,’’ he 


| said. ‘I knew there was something wrong 
| right from the first.” 


“Do you generally travel with Major 


| Murchison?” continued the captain. 


At least Mell saw no harm in answering 


| that. “No, sir,” he said. ‘I never saw hirn 


till Wednesday.” 

“Of course he’d say that!” 

“One moment, Mr. Massey,” said the 
captain. “I will conduct this inquiry in my 
own way, if you please.”’ And turning to 


August 14,1926 


Mell, he continued: “Is it true that you 
impersonated Mr. Melvin MacCloud to 
these gentlemen?” 

“My name is Melvin MacCloud.” 

“But didn’t you lead them to believe 
that you were another Melvin MacCloud— 
a gentleman prominently identified with 
the copper industry?”’ 

“TI believe they obtained that impres- 
sion.” 

“And you didn’t correct it?”’ 

“No, sir.” 

“And you still deny that you and Major 
Murchison are traveling together?” 

‘‘We’re both on the same boat, if that’s 
what you mean,” said Mell, beginning to 
look puzzled. 

“No,” said the captain; and speaking 
very plainly and very patiently, he con- 
tinued: ‘‘This is what I mean: The major 
took a number of gentlemen to visit you 
last night, and because they thought you 
were Mr. MacCloud, the copper mine 
owner, he obtained their confidence. Later 
he joined them in the smoke room, where 
they were playing poker; and by a series of 
most remarkable hands, he promptly pro- 
ceeded to win something like three thou- 
sand dollars.” 

“He was lucky,” said Mell, smiling; and 
then gradually he stopped smiling as he re- 
membered the major’s remark of the night 
before: ‘I thought I would ask you first, 
leaving it to fate, as it were, to see if I 
should get the funds in this way or an- 
other.” 

“Rather more than lucky,” said the cap- 
tain significantly. ‘‘In fact, he held such 
remarkable hands that one of the specta- 
tors, whose suspicions had already been 
aroused, went to the ship’s library this 
morning, and there in a late volume of 
Who’s Who he discovered that Mr. 
MacCloud, the copper mine owner, was 
born in 1866—in other words, that he is 
sixty years old.” 

Mell didn’t have to look around the table 
twice to know who it was who had dipped 
into current history. 

‘And there you have it,’’ concluded the 
captain almost sadly, as though he pre- 
ferred to think better things of mankind. 
“An impostor, traveling without a pass- 
port, and a colleague who is too lucky at 
ecards. As for you, Mr. MacCloud, you will 
please stay in your stateroom for the 
present.” 

“Yes, sir,’ said Mell in a low voice— 
Mell, whose heart was beginning to ache as 
he thought of Marjorie’s relationship to a 
certain stately gentleman who was standing 
accused of being too clever with the cards. 

“And as for you, major ——”’ 

“One moment, captain,” said the major, 
majestically raising his hand. ‘‘Remember, 
sir, before you speak, that I shall hold you to 
the strictest liability. Mr. MacCloud will 
bear me out when I say that I never sus- 
pected that he was other than what he 
claimed to be.”’ 

“The pot now calling the kettle for wit- 
ness?’’ asked young Sour-F ace with a short 
laugh. 

“Sir,’’ exclaimed the major, rising, “that 
remark is distinctly libelous, and I call upon 
you all to remember it!”’ 

“Two cheap crooks and I found them 
out!”’ continued Mr. Massey, possibly 
wishing to impress the others with his clev- 
erness. ‘Two cheap crooks, and they think 
they can bluff me now!”’. 

At that, Mell and the major both arose, 
and anyone in the room could see that even 
the future American Barrie had not arisen 
with any peaceful purpose. 

“One moment!”’ exclaimed the captain 
sharply. ‘‘Mr. Massey, I wish to thank 
you for bringing this matter to my atten- 
tion.” 

The words were those of thanks, but the 
tone was that of dismissal; and obeying his 
chief’s almost imperceptible nod, the wait- 
ing officer led Mr. Massey to the door and 
politely closed it behind him. 

The captain turned to the quartet next, 
sitting there in the background, not so 
much now like a musical group who had 

(Continued on Page 116 








Before the advent of the Chry- 
sler “70” two and a half years 
ago the better cars were on a 
fairly even footing with prac- 
tically nothing but price to set 
one apart from the other. 


At that time Walter P. Chry- 
sler sensed the widespread 
public desire for better car 
performance. 


He recognized that motoring 
needs had developed to a point 
where the public demanded 
superior, faster and safer transportation; a car with 
longer life; greater comfort, more easy to handle 
and quicker to accelerate in the maze of traffic. 


Thus the Chrysler “70” became the pioneer of a 
new order of motoring and today more than ever 
emphasizes the leadership it then assumed. 


For Chrysler was the first stock car to give a speed 
of 70 miles and more per hour, an acceleration of 
5 to 25 miles in 7% seconds and gasoline economy 
of 20 miles to the gallon with such performance. 


CHRYSLER SALES 
CHRYSLER CORPORATION OF 





CORPORATION, 
CANADA, 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


CHRYSLER “70” Pioneer of a New Order 





Other advanced features were 
a motor with a seven bearing 
crank shaft in that price class; 
oil-filter, air-cleaner, an exclu- 
sive spring mounting eliminat- 
ing side sway even at highest 
speeds, and self-equalizing 
hydraulic four-wheel brakes. 


Coupled with these unheard of 
mechanical perfections was a 
newness of design which pro- 
vided comfort and roadability; 
a beauty that immediately won 
the approval of the most discriminating. 


So great was the manifest superiority of the Chry- 
sler “70” that it immediately exercised a marked 
influence on the entire industry—an influence that 
has grown with each passing month. 


But there has not yet appeared a single car, no 
matter what its outward resemblance to Chrysler, 
or that has adopted some of the features that 
Chrysler introduced, which does the things that 
Chrysler does as Chrysler does them. 


DETROIT, MICHIGAN 
LIMITED, WINDSOR, ONTARIO 


NEW CHRYSLER “70” PRICES 
Coach, $1395; Roadster, $1525; Royal Coupe, $1695; Brougham, $1745; Sedan, $1545; Royal 
Sedan $1795; Crown Sedan $1895. All prices f. 0. b. Detroit, subject to current Federal excise tax 


Chrysler Model Numbers Mean Miles Per Hour 


TRUST Tip-Top to stand by 
you through the toughest 
eighteen holes, the fastest set 
of tennis or the roughest ride. 
Tip-Top is built to give a good 
account of itself and a good 
impression of you. It’s sturdy 
and it’s stylish. It’s thorough- 
bred all the way through. 

Look for Tip-Top’s equal at 
$3.75, and you’re headed 
straight for disappointment. 
Tip-Top has no equal at the 
price. 

An octagon aristocrat— 
that’s Tip-Top! A watch any 
man would be proud to wear! 
Small, thin, with a handsome 
beveled crystal, cubist numer- 
ais, clean-cut, open hands, 
sunk second dial. Youll tell 
yourself that it has every 
mark of gentility. 

But you won't really appre- 
ciate Tip-Top until you’ve 
tested it for performance. 
That’s where Tip-Top shines! 
It’s a True Time Teller— 
honest, accurate, dependable. A 
silent ticker that never fails you. 

Especially notice Tip-Top’s 
angle on the strap. No need to 
twist your neck—or your wrist, 
either—to read Tip-Top’s time. 

Look Tip-Top over—today! 
Your nearest dealer has the 
silver-dialed Tip-Top at $3.75. 
Radium luminous dial, $4.50. 
Also see Tip-Top, the pocket 
watch. Like the wrist-watch, 


THE 


| POE, 


the wrist-watch, is 
equally at home 
golfing or galloping 


but pocket sized. White dial, 
$1.75. Radium luminous dial, 
$2.75. 

Ask your dealer about Tom- 
Tom too. The octagon True 
Time Teller alarm clock. White 
dial, $3.25. Radium, $4.25. 
Prices slightly higher in Canada. 

THE NEW HAVEN 
CLOCK COMPANY 
New Haven, Conn. 
Clock-makers for over 100 years 


SATURDAY EVENING POST 


(Continued from Page 114 
just been singing dirges as like four mem- 
bers of a jury who had found the prisoners 
guilty, but weren’t particularly proud of 
some of the testimony on which they had 
based their conviction. 

“My thanks to you, gentlemen, as well,”’ 
said the captain, with a smile which any 
diplomat might have envied. 

The four were about to rise when the 
door opened and a cherub appeared in the 
shape of a rosy-cheeked cabin boy with a 
double row of round brass buttons on his 
little monkey jacket. Carrying these splen- 
dors with easy grace, he marched to the 
captain’s desk and handed him an envelope 
and a sheet of flimsy--a sheet of flimsy 
such as the wireless operators use when 
making copies of the messages which they 
have snared with their antenne. 

The captain looked at the flimsy, and 
then he looked at the envelope, and then 
he turned and looked at Mell with his 
watchful eyes. 

“A message for you, Mr. MacCloud,”’ he 
said. ‘Perhaps you can explain it.”’ 

It was from New York; and, as you will 
see, the sender had been in a discursive 
almost a garrulously triumphant mood. It 
read: 

‘Operations successful. 
ment unnecessary. 

*“*MELVIN J. MacCLoup.” 


Further conceal- 


“Explain it? Yes, I can explain it,” said 
Mell; and, his heart still numb at the 
major’s luck with the cards, he sadly turned 
to the departing quartet and added, “‘ Don’t 
go yet, please. I’ve something I want to 
tell you.” 

xII 

ELL was in Cupid’s Bower an hour 

later, frowning at a cut on his knuckles, 
when the major knocked and entered; and 
far from showing any embarrassment from 
his recent exposure in the captain’s office, it 
needed only a glance to see that the major 
was in excellent form. 

“*T have just left our friends in the smoke 
room,” he announced. “They are all right 
again now.” 

Forgetting his usual dignity, he started 
to hum-—a mid-Victorian air which had 
once accompanied the adventures of a Cap- 
tain Jinks of the Horse Marines. But catch- 
ing himself, he suddenly stopped and 
stroked his mustache with a stately hand 
instead. 

“First of all,”’ he said, “‘I offered to re- 
turn their money, pointing out that though 
I had won it fairly enough, in view of the 
fact that a question had been raised which 
reflected upon my honor, I could no longer 
rest easy with the funds in my possession. 
Naturally, they resisted; but it was finally 
agreed that a coin should be tossed to settle 
the point—leaving it to fate again, you 
see—tails that I should return the money, 
heads that I should keep it. And—ah 
quite as it happened, of course, I managed 
to toss a head.” 

There was a pause then; and perhaps 
each guessed the question in the other's 
eyes. 

“Are you generally lucky at games of 
chance, major?’’ asked Mell in a low voice. 

“‘Well, I know cards rather well,” hesi- 
tated the major. “‘Too well, I don’t mind 
telling you now, for my own good. In fact, 
I might even say that my whole life has 
been ruined by the damned things. At a 
time when I should have been studying my 
career, I made a hobby of bridge. That was 
bad enough, of course; but to make it 
worse, I wrote a textbook on the subject 
Murchison’s Manual, if you please. You’ll 
find it in the ship’s library here, and I be- 
lieve it is still regarded as the European 
authority. As a matter of fact,” he bitterly 
added, ‘“‘it isn’t a book; it’s a millstone; 
and it hangs around my neck. ‘He’s Major 
Murchison, you know, of Murchison’s 
Manual’; and who could regard me seri- 
ously after that?”’ 

“Then last night?” 

“Oh, last night was all right!’’ exclaimed 
the major, still speaking with a touch of 
bitterness. ‘Ordinarily I dislike to play 
poker, because when strangers discover 


August 14,1926 


that they have been playing with the au- 
thor of Murchison’s Manual, they gen- 
erally seem to feel that they have been 
sitting against a professional, and they re- 
sent it. But so far as last night is concerned, 
I happened to hold two aces and then I 
drew two more, just at a time when the 
other hands were good. It was our 
young friend Massey who stirred up the 
trouble. Oh, and that reminds me 

do you expect to be busy this afternoon?” 

“N-no,” said Mell, with a glance at the 
deserted deck outside. 

“Then we'll have another talk with those 
four gentlemen, if you like.”’ 

“‘Great heavens!’’ exclaimed Mell, al- 
most in awe. “Are they still going on with 
that?” 

“Going on with it?’ echoed the major. 
‘My dear boy, you couldn’t stop them now 
unless you tied their feet! According to a 
radio item which was posted on the smoke- 
room bulletin board half an hour ago, Mel- 
vin J. MacCloud, the new copper king, 
cleared up ten million dollars on the stock 
exchange yesterday; and—ah—in some 
mysterious manner, your own connection 
with the affair has become public, and you 
are the hero of the ship.” 

In response to the major’s stately gesture 
of congratulation, they shook hands, Mell 
wincing a little when his knuckles felt the 
pressure of the other’s grasp. 

“T must be going now,”’ said the major. 
“‘T feel that I shal! enjoy my luncheon bet- 
ter after I have found Mr. Massey and 
have asked him to explain a recent remark 
which he made in the captain’s office.” 

Whatever limitations his authorship of 
Murchison’s Manual had placed upon him, 
there was no mistaking the major’s martial 
front as he said those words. 

“I doubt if Massey will be able to see 
you,” said Mell. 

““Why not?”’ demanded the major, more 
warlike than ever. 

“Well,” said Mell, “I met him in the 
corridor myself just before you came in, 
and—there was no one else out there but 
our own two selves. And, of course, I’m 
not sure, major—I couldn’t swear to it 
but I don’t believe he’il be able to see you 
or anybody else for the next few days 
not, at least, till his eyes are open again.” 


x1 
HE weather cleared during the after- 
noon; and by the time Mell started to 
dress for dinner, that straddling lobster of 
the sky again came out and was duly split 
upon the plate of evening. 

The major and his hopeful four had left 
him less than an hour before; but Mell 
wasn’t thinking of them. United Coal and 
Oil and its possible millions were altogether 
in the future, and what he wanted was 
something immediate. 

“A thousand dollars from Uncle Mel- 
vin,” he was dreaming to himself. “I’m 
sure of that much, anyhow, as soon as I get 
back. Enough for a good long honey- 
moon—and I'll finish the Vigil too.” 

His studs and the knot of his tie absorbed 
him then; but it wasn’t long before his 
glance grew dreamy again, and seating him- 
self at the desk, with Uncle Melvin’s coat 
and waistcoat still upon their hanger, he 
wrote: 

ANGELA (her hand upon her breast, which 
rises and falls like twin waves of the sea while 
she watches the lights of DEREK’S car ap- 
proaching from below): How strange--the 
way I feel! I havenever felt like this before. 
Even as far away as that, he makes me 
tremble like the strings of a harp. 


Mell read it over and shook his head. 
“No, not quite like Barrie,’’ he said, un- 
certainly rising and drawing a tremulous 
breath. ‘“‘I think—before long, though— 
I’ll be able to describe it better than that.” 

The second bell was still ringing when he 
started out to find the dining room, his 
search an adventure which caught his fancy 
at every turn. The great stairways, with 
their paintings and palms, the elevators, 
the long, mysterious corridors, the shops, 

Continued on Page 118 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





4 “ANT niey 
(ENS Lae 
ASO 
Kay nie Mil 




































































































a) os ‘a 
' SSS TY 
PSA 
ye Wy) Wi " 
f NEG U7, 
i = Vik VA 
he p, 
j ray, 
4 les ZZ) 
h Ve of vA 
ay AE 
it ' |) Fae iA i = 1h Vs 
DANA ( qu’ = a | EA 
{ ANY by OS a Oe HY / \ 
Sy 5 fae te PUP te, “iY 
' bi SI 7 dhl 14 Jt Fg SEK SIT RONU DAT GG if 
bis 2) t iid ; Ay i qa Talla’ al altar ee 
i eg hs MOMS 
! | RY) ET 
it — Ee =~ ye mem See | 
‘ HH atl es SS OP ea SE ee 
CH | — / i yi 
i if ‘ Tea) 
1 ava 
i f 1 Pius we 
B ea 
} | -reo 
>= a 
i : § 
i = 
‘ le 
i Fi 
i S | 
. 
38 
| aH 
i 4 4 
| | 
ie 
| hs 
‘ER 
H ae 
ell 
{ ' 
> 
4 ~ 
a } A 
iae 
. 
; 
ils 
’ 
IF 
le 
let 
iA 
lj 
li 
t 
. 
. 
i= 
\ ; 
d | H 
t 
H 
J = ~<a iM 
) i © 
! 
, | 
, — 


| A 


SEDAN OF COMMANDING BEAUTY 


for Men in Command of Affairs 


IG business speaks to big business through 
the President—a Studebaker Big Six Cus- 


(Illustrated) tom Sedan for big business executives! The 
The PRESIDENT President is the Studebaker conception of the 
} A Big Six Custom Sedan kind of car an executive should ride in— inspired 


for seven, mohair 


or 
broadcloth upholstery 


: °2245 


Standard Six Custom 


in every detail of its lines with the vision of Big 
Business ideals—evoking both admiration for 


itself and respect for the man who owns it. 


POWERED with the quiet Studebaker L-head 


Sedan . $1385 
Big Six Custom — motor, which recently crossed the continent in 
Brougham 1985 / 
Prices f. 0. b. fadlory, 86 hours and 20 minutes—six hours faster than 
including full equipment, 


4-wheel brakes and 
ait wheels 


the best time of the crack Limiteds! 
AND DOWERED with those custom details of 
{ luxury and refinement that place it in the com- 


pany of costly custom creations! 


Resting on a wheelbase of 127 inches, the Presi- 
dent reveals the long level lines of a custom 
body—settling low over disc wheels with four- 
wheel brake control—lacquered in a rich ebony 
with a belt of thistle green striped with Siskiyou 
yellow—upholstered in broadcloth with broad- 
lace trim and last minute custom appointments 
—and culminating in the silvered figure of 
Atalanta poised above its radiator to symbolize 


the futility of pursuit. 


Yet the President is moderately priced, thanks 
to Studebaker One-Profit facilities. By all means 
see the President before you see anybody else. 
It is the final word in a car for the man whose 


word is final. 


K 












































I ‘quipment 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





Yes, Sir~ Solid Comfort/ 


P r on Brighton Wide-Webs—and 
your legs will never know they 


wearing them. 


are 


Brighton ‘“‘comfort”’ elastic practically 
eliminates tension—there is no bind- 
ing, no checking of circulation to 
cause tire and discomfort. 


Keep comfortable with Brightons— 
your legs will thank you! 


Insist on Brightons at the men's wear counter— 
packed in the blue and orange box. 


PIONEER SUSPENDER COMPANY 
Philadelphia, Pa. 
For 49 Years Manufacturers of 


Pioneer Suspenders 
Brighton Garters 





‘PIONEER 


a 


PIONEER} 


Pioneer Belts 


GARTERS 


Single Grip 35c and up Double Grip 50c and up 


(3 righ tor WEB 


_ 


PIONEER 


| us that Mr. 


(Continued from Page 116) 
| the offices, and somewhere in the distance 
an orchestra playing Kreisler’s Souvenir 
nearly everywhere he found something to 
warm his imagination and start odd bits of 
fancy in his mind. 


A stairway fit for some grand monarch of 
the seas. Unconsciously ANGELA took 
the wrong corridor, and opened the last door 
but one on the left, by which she always re- 
membered her own room. A terrific 
lurch of the ship caused the cage to stick be- 
tween two floors, and just at that moment a 
mountainous wave crashed over the boat deck 
and poured itself down the elevator shaft —— 


By that time, following a group of pas- 
sengers in evening clothes, he had reached 
the entrance of the dining room. He started 
to tell himself: 


They swept in like peacocks about to eat 
their golden corn —— 


But here he was interrupted by a head 
steward with a passenger list in his hand. 

‘Name, sir?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes,” said Mell, blinking a little. 
“My name’s MacCloud—Melvin Mac- 
Cloud. But I’m going to sit in Mr. Mas- 
sey’s place tonight.” 

It was a table for four, and all the chairs 
were empty when he reached it. 

““Where does Miss Murchison sit?” he 
asked the table steward. 

“Ere, sir.” 

“Then I’ll sit here,’’ said Mell. As he 
tucked his long legs under the table, it was 
evident that some of the other passengers 
had heard him tell his name to the head 
steward. Here and there heads began to 
turn and discreet whispers passed around: 
“There he is—Table Number 12— Melvin 
MacCloud. His uncle made ten million on 
thestock exchange yesterday. They thought 
he was on the Patrician and raided his 


August 14,1926 


stocks, but the old boy suddenly turned up 
and spanked them. And now 
they’re starting another company— United 
Coal and Oil ‘i 

Oblivious to this, Mell was watching the 
doorway for Marjorie and the major to 
appear; and he hadn’t been waiting long 
when a queer, palpitating feeling made him 
thrill all over. The major was speaking to 
Mr. Schureman and didn’t see him at first. 
But Marjorie did, and after a moment’s hesi- 
tation she made right for him. Outwardly 
calm, Mell arose and drew out her chair; 
but, oh, what was happening inside him! 

“Now I must remember all this,’’ he tried 
to tell himself, ‘‘so I can put it in the Vigil.”’ 

There must have been a lot to remember, 
for it was well past midnight before he re- 
turned to the Bower. He sat for a while 
then, smiling in his serious manner at the 
fancies which came to him, and then he 
slowly walked his chair along to the desk. 

“T think I’ll write the last scene first,’’ he 
told himself, ‘‘ because that’s the freshest in 
my mind.” And dipping his pen in the ink 
he wrote: 

ANGELA (looking over the rail, and know- 
ing that her vigil is nearing its end): 
Doesn’t it seem wonderful that the stars 
have always been here! 

DEREK (his voice shaking a little): I’m 
beginning to feel that I’ve loved you as long 
as that. 

ANGELA: Isn’t it strange the way it 
seems we've always known each other! 
[DEREK kisses her. 

ANGELA (in muffled voice): Careful, dear! 
I think the watchman’s coming by again. 


Mell leaned back in his chair and read 
what he had written. 

“There,” he exulted to himself, ‘that’s 
more like Barrie! I always knew, ’way down 
in my heart, that the time would come—at 


” 


last! 


SHORT TURNS AND ENCORES 


(Continued from Page 30) 


goes to lunch, which is eaten maesicso. The 
wailing oboe, played poco pianissimo, indi- 
cates that he objects, mentally, tothe check, 
but pays it, ritardando. The saxophones 
break into a wild tempo rubato, expressing 
difficulties in Mr. McGoofus’ efforts to be- 
come a captain of industry. This movement 
becomes more and more rallentando until 
there is a crash from the cymbals, showing 
McGoofus has closed his desk 
for the day. There is just enough of a sug- 
gestion of Home, Sweet Home to recognize 
it, after which the entire orchestra plays a 
sprightly air in unison. Mr. McGoofus is 
going home. He is anxious to be there. 
The music is taken up at a more rapid 
tempo. It becomes pii mosso and forte. 
There is a diminuendo as the train pauses 
for Rolling Roost, the home of Mr. McGoo- 
fus. The music swings into a legato waltz. 
All is at peace. So is Mr. McGoofus. He 
approaches his own door, grazioso and leg- 
giero. This motif is particularly sweet and 
cloying. It grows fainter and fainter, with 
nothing left but the singing of the muted 
violins. A sudden pause, then every in- 
strument in the orchestra blares forth with 
a discord and the symphony ends. Mrs. 
McGoofus has just told Mr. McGoofus that 
they are going to a concert that night. 
Tom S. Elrod. 


The House That Jack Built 


HIS is the house that Jack built. 
This is the banker who furnished the 
dough to construct the house that Jack built. 
This is the man who signed the note to 
give to the banker who furnished the dough 
to construct the house that Jack built. 
This is the man who sold the plot so Jack 
could have for his house, a lot; he backed 
the man who signed the note to give to the 
banker who furnished the dough to con- 
struct the house that Jack built. 
This is the agent—a salesman hot--who 
furnished insurance for house and lot to 


protect the man who sold the plot, who 
backed the fellow who signed the note to 
give to the banker who furnished the dough 
to construct the house that Jack built. 

This is the policy tried and true, sold by 
the agent—a salesman hot— who furnished 
insurance for house and lot to protect the 
man who sold the plot who backed the fel- 
low who signed the note to give to the 
banker who furnished the dough to con- 
struct the house that Jack built. 

This is the mortgage, black and blue, 
along with the policy tried and true, put up 
to secure the salesman hot who furnished 
insurance for house and lot to protect the 
man who sold the plot, who backed the fel- 
low who signed the note to give to the 
banker who furnished the dough to con- 
struct the house that Jack built. 

This, an asylum painted red, was built 
for a guy who was off in his head; who 
owed for the mortgage, black and blue, 
as well as the policy, tried and true, put 
up to secure the salesman hot who fur- 
nished insurance for house and lot to pro- 
tect the man who sold the plot, who backed 
the fellow who signed the note to give to 
the banker who furnished the dough to 
construct the house that Jack built; yea, 
to construct it so by and by it could be 
turned over to some other guy, who would 
borrow the money and hock his coat to 
get some poor sucker to sign his note, rush 
up to the agent—a salesman hot—to get 
more insurance on house and lot, to take 
out a policy tried and true and follow with 
mortgages, black and blue; and who, be- 
fore long, with a pain in his head, would 
wend his way to the asylum red, and say: 
““Move over, Jack, an’ gimme room; I! 
tried to get rich in the real-estate boom, so 
I bought a house and borrowed the dough 
an’ now there ain’t nobody I don't owe; 
the banker and the salesman hot have taken 
over my house and lot an’ unless I miss my 
guess by a mile, they'll be here, too, in a 
darned short while.” Holbert Seigle. 













THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 

















... a newly refined 
Advanced Six Series 
and Light Six Series 


| CAD» 


‘Now on display at pour NASH dealers 
pm dear ser 





Photo 
© Hill 


Bi lELL 


as “The Lone Wolf” 


| the issue had been joined and he, himself, 
| scourged into action. Anything was better 
| than this state of desuetude into which he 
| had fallen. 


HE most romantic figure in mod- 

ern fiction is the hero of “The 
Lone Wolf Returns,” a thrilling story 
by Louis Joseph Vance. Bert Lytell 
and Billie Dove head the remarkable 
cast that enacts this tense drama of love 
and romantic daring, with high-lights 
of unusual comedy relief. 

“The Lone Woif Returns’ — direct- 
ed by Ralph Ince — guarantees to 
give you a most pleasurably exciting 
evening’s entertainment. 

Ask your favorite theatre when it 
will be shown. 


Betty 
Compson 
in 


“The 
of 
Broadway”’ 


Belle 


Every lover of good pictures will want 
to see Miss Compson’s winning personality 
against this impetuous, colorful backgroun 
of New York night life. Watch for this in- 
tensely interesting story, adapted from the 
musical comedy success “Adele.” 

—>—+ 
Columbia Pictures not only star 
many of filmdom’s favorites but also 
feature the works of many leading 
authors and playwrights. 

You'll be missing some REAL en- 
tertainment if you don’t see every 
one of the 24 great Columbia Pictures 
that are on their way to you. 


Columbia Pictures Corporation 
1600 Broadway, New York City 





| brain seemed to have atrophied. 


| of an enthusiastic Spanish dancer. 
| Naples it exhibited all the fertility of a cold- 
| storage egg. 


| family. 


| there was a baby 
| lusty-lunged and not unattractive. Where- 
| fore, when the coffers of the Petronio family 
| needed slight replenishing and the spa- 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


NEAPOLITAN SCREAM 


“Well ” Cesar was none too 
gracious. ‘I walks slow up the street.” 

That seemed to satisfy Mr. Potts, who 
vanished unobtrusively into the tobacco 
shop while Director Clump brooded slowly 
up the narrow, steep thoroughfare. 

He had almost determined to become 
friends again with Welford. For one thing, 
he liked the dapper little actor, and for 
another he was eager to ascertain just how 
much President Latimer had said to Wel- 
ford in their fateful interview of an hour 
since. And so, while Welford wrestled de- 
spairingly with the keeper of the tobacco 


| shop, trying to make him understand what 
| it was that he wanted, Cesar crept along 


the street, staring through sprawling door- 


| ways at scenes of domestic intimacy frankly 
| revealed to the casual passer-by. 


But the motion-picture cells of Cesar’s 
Back in 
Birmingham, in the hustle and bustle of 
Kighteenth Street, Mr. Clump’s brain 
clicked like a pair of castanets in the hands 
Here in 


His problem was that of a beginning 
point. He knew that once he swung into 
action the rich flavor of Europe would pro- 


| vide him with multitudinous hunches to 


keep the movie fans of America goggle- 
eyed with laughter. 

The pristine bitterness of President Lati- 
mer’s tongue-lashing was wearing away. 
True, Clump still believed that he was a 
much-picked-upon gentleman, yet there 
was a feeling of relief in the knowledge that 


The fact that he had much 
company in his misery relieved the situa- 
tion not a bit. 

He moved slowly and more slowly, wait- 


ing for Welford. He didn’t know where the 


little star had gone or what was detaining 
him. He noticed children and women along 
the street staring at him, but a fortnight in 
Naples had schooled him to languid in- 
difference. He moved very slowly, and 
finally stopped before a five-story stucco 
tenement which was as like every other 
structure on the block as one string bean is 
like a thousand other string beans, and 
there he stood, indifferent to his surround- 
ings, enmeshed in the net of his own 
troubles. 

Now it happens that in certain sections 
of Naples American tourists mean but one 
thing—and that one thing is alms. The cry 
for charity falls upon the ear of the stranger 
from every direction; it issues from the 
throats of young boys and girls, from able- 


| bodied men and cripples, from young 
| women and old. 
| comes from women who are fortunate 
| enough to be possessed of children of carry- 
| ing size. 
| ing; it rises and falls in shrill cadence; it 


But most particularly it 


It is a never-ending din of plead- 


has a timbre of command and it is startlingly 
persistent. 

It so happened that things had not been 
going very well of late with the Petronio 
Signor Petronio was a_hard- 
working gentleman who labored at a modest 


| wage in one of the city’s less pretentious 
| spaghetti factories. 


Mrs. Carmelina Pe- 
tronio did more or less housework and 
struggled valiantly to make ends meet, and 
Petronio who was 


ghetti business was off, Mrs. Petronio lay 
in wait for any tourists who might come 
strolling by, and from them solicited finan- 
cial aid on behalf of the bambino. 

By this it must not be concluded that 
Carmelina lost any caste or social prestige. 
It was quite the thing in that neighborhood 
for men, women and children to extract 
what money they could from pedestrians. 
As a matter of fact, genuine success in the 


(Continued from Page 23 


casual begging line was looked upon by the 
indigent neighbors as being the hall mark 
of genius. 

Carmelina Petronio glimpsed Mr. Julius 
Cesar Clump strolling moodily along her 
street. To her untutored eye he was merely 
a very elegant American tourist. She was 
delighted with his checkered cap, his silk 
shirt, his putties and his horn-rimmed gog- 
gles, and so she bustled into her house, 
gave strident commands to three small Pe- 
tronios and gathered into her arms the 
youngest of the family, a masculine person 
about sixteen months of age. She threw a 
shawl about her head, assumed an expres- 
sion of abysmal dolefulness and moved once 
more into the narrow street. 

J. Cesar Clump was standing just out- 
side the door. His hands were plunged 
deep in his pockets and he was absently 
fingering a dozen small coins which were 
contained therein. The clink of money was 
wafted to the ears of this mother of four 
Petronios like the opening measures of a 
great symphony. 

Mrs. Petronio gathered the newest Pe- 
tronio to her bosom and advanced mourn- 
fully on Cesar. Her voice rose above the 
street din in wailing anguish. 

“‘ A-a-a-ah, signore! Bambino! A-a-a-ah, 
bambino!” 

Cesar favored her with a disapproving 
stare. Her cry meant nothing to him. The 
word “‘bambino”’ was merely a name at- 
tached to a certain prominent American 
baseball player in whom Mr. Clump was 
not at the moment interested. 

Bambino!” The cry was plangent on 
his ears. ‘‘A-a-ah, bambino!” 

Cesar stared at mother and child. Mrs. 
Petronio extended the child for his inspec- 
tion, and the child chuckled delightedly at 
sight of J. Cesar’s dark countenance and 
black goggles. In spite of his ill humor, J. 
Cesar smiled. 

That was the signal of encouragement 
which Mrs. Carmelina Petronio needed. 
She knew then that it was merely a ques- 
tion of how much. She sprayed the Italian 
language all over the street in a staccato 
medley of words which fell heavily on 
Cesar’s uncomprehending ears. She was 
telling him in her most impressive way that 
none of the Petronios had partaken of a 
square meal in many weeks and that this 
particular child had been the chief sufferer. 
She also explained that ordinarily she would 
not stoop to beg, but this was a very par- 
ticular case engendered by the vacuum 
existing in the bambino’s digestive ap- 
paratus. 

J. Cesar Clump had no faintest idea of 
what was happening. It never occurred to 
him that charity was being sought. He 
only saw a fat, healthy, laughing baby and 
a mother who seemed proud of it. He saw 
her come close to him, and he laughed with 
the baby. The bambino returned the laugh 
and J. Cwsar chucked it under the chin. 

Mrs. Petronio with difficulty restrained a 
shriek of triumph. She commenced to think 
in lire instead of centesimi. She held 
the baby beseechingly toward J. Cesar 
Clump—and Director J. Cesar Clump mis- 
interpreted the gesture. He took the child 
in his arms! 

The trio was now beaming. In the glory 
of the child’s happiness Mr. Clump forgot 
his own miseries, and devoted himself with 
commendable enthusiasm to the task of 
keeping the baby in good humor. Mrs. 
Petronio witnessed the tableau with joy 
unbounded and smiled her approval on 
offspring and American alike. 

J. Cesar displayed all the qualities of a 
perfect nurse. He tickled the child and 
grimaced at it and made queer, unearthly 
sounds which are popularly supposed by 
adults to comprise an infant vocabulary. 
The baby laughed gleefully. 

And then, from somewhere in the cavern- 
ous recesses of the tenement in which the 
Petronios resided, there came a series of un- 
earthly howls and screams which indicated 


August 14,1926 


that something was radically amiss with 
one of the other little Petronios. 

Mrs. Carmelina stood motionless for a 
moment. The howlings crescendoed and 
became terrifying. The mother heart of 
Mrs. Petronio filled with worry. She gave 
a quick glance at the kindly American who 
played so perfectly with her child. And she 
asked him—in Italian—whether he would 
object to amusing the baby for a few mo- 
ments while she went to investigate what 
manner of evil had befallen her other chil- 
dren. 

J. Cesar did not understand what she 
was saying, and so he merely nodded ac- 
quiescence and said “ Si!”” which was all 
the Italian he had absorbed in two weeks. 
And then Mrs. Petronio vanished! 

For five minutes after her departure, J. 
Cesar enjoyed himself hugely with the 
baby. But there is a distinct limit to the 
amount of amusement a man can derive 
froma sixteen-month-old infant, no matter 
how cute that child may be; and so Cesar 
commenced to walk up and down the street, 
peering into doorways and wondering where 
the mother was and why she did not return. 
He appreciated her confidence in him, of 
course, but he had no desire to accept a 
permanent position as nursemaid, and from 
all indications the mother was not thinking 
of effecting an immediate return. 

Ten minutes passed. A horrid thought 
smote Cesar. He had heard of children 
being abandoned! What if he had acquired 
a nice Italian child as his very own! The 
idea was appalling! He decided suddenly 
and unanimously that he wished to get rid 
of this bambino— quickly and completely. 

He approached one or two neighborhood 
women, extended the child toward them 
and made grimaces which were intended to 
convey the impression that he wished to 
know the child’s domicile. But the women 
shook their heads in negation, and also re- 
fused to take the infant from him. 

Cesar had lost all track of which tene- 
ment was partially inhabited by the Pe- 
tronio family. Each building on the block 
was absolutely like every other building. 
All swarmed with men, women, children 
and dogs. No one seemed to understand 
that this dusky American considered him- 
self in a decidedly embarrassing position. 

Mr. Clump yearned for the services of an 
interpreter. With someone who could slip 
readily from English to Italian it would be 
easy enough to go from tenement to tene- 
ment inquiring the baby’s parentage. But 
no one seemed to understand him. 

He desired to walk down the street to- 
ward Via Roma where interpreters swarm. 
Yet there was grave danger in such an act. 
Suppose Mrs. Carmelina returned and 
thought he was attempting to kidnap her 
offspring. He concluded ruefully that he 
must emulate the lad who did fixed-post 
duty on the burning deck. 

And then, from the corner, a vision ap- 
peared—a slender, radiant, inspiration- 
inspiring vision which caused a pan of joy 
to overflow the heart of Mr. Julius Cesar 
Clump. The vision was personified by Mr. 
Welford Potts, star actor. 

Welford toiled blithely up the street to- 
ward his chief, blissfully unconscious of the 
fact that he was about to become a victim. 
And as for Mr. Clump, that gentleman ex- 
perienced not a single qualm of conscience. 
Hadn’t Welford done him dirt by agreeing 
with President Latimer’s drastic opinions? 
Hadn’t Welford been so much in the wrong 
that all morning he had been trying to make 
peace with Cesar, and hadn’t he himself 
said that he’d do anything in the world to 
make things right? Very well—here was 
his chance. 

Mr. Potts approached Mr. Clump and 
opened his lips in the speech preliminary to 
presenting the American cigarettes. But 
the speech was never finished. Mr. Clump 
stepped forward and shoved the little Pe- 
tronio into tne astonished arms of Mr. Potts. 

Continued on Page 125) 









\ 












THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





Happy, Healthy People 


Thousands have corrected clogged 

intestines, skin and stomach disorders — 

found glorious health and happiness — 
by eating one simple food 


J pe a “cure-all,” not a medicine in any 
sense—Fleischmann’s Yeast is simply 
a remarkable fresh food. 


The millions of tiny active yeast plants in 
every cake invigorate the whole system. 
They aid digestion—clear the skin— banish 
the poisons of constipation. Where cathartics 
give only temporary relief, yeast strengthens 
the intestinal muscles and makes them 
healthy and active. And day by day it re- 
leases new stores of energy. 


Eat two or three cakes regularly every day 
before meals: on crackers—in fruit juices, 
water or milk—or just plain, nibbled from 
the cake. For constipation especially, dissolve 
one cake in hot water (not scalding) before 
breakfast and at bedtime. Buy several cakes 
at a time—they will keep fresh in a cool dry 
place for two or three days. All grocers have 
Fleischmann’s Yeast. Start eating it today! 


And let us send you a free copy of our 
latest booklet on Yeast for Health. Health 
Research Dept. D-17, The Fleischmann Com- 
pany, 701 Washington Street, New York. 




















“T AM a sailor in the United States Navy and all my life, 
as long as I can remember, I have been bothered with 
stomach trouble. I have read and have been told of 
Fleischmann’s Yeast and have also seen a difference in 
shipmates who have used it. While home on leave 
last August I got in the habit of taking Yeast in a glass 
of warm water. Now I feel like a new man. I eat much 
more and I also perform my duties with much more ‘pep’ 
than I ever have before.” 


STANLEY H. STRAINGE, avy, Hampton 





Ts 









































‘T DID competitive swimming and diving 





R two years my f ¢ wa badly 
fected with skin eruptions i 
to give up dancing and s s un 
face was free and decided to try Fk 
mann’s Yeast. Four months have i 
and my face is completely free from eruj 


tions. I am still taking Yeast and alwa 
will.”’ 
Davip H. Sarer, J nv = 


LEFT 


I met with an accident which confine 


me in a hospital for one month After 
wards I was very weak and tired easi i 
decided | would make yeast a daily habit 
Now I feel so strong that Frida night | 
swal 1 mule And I credit my pep to 
F leis inn’s Yeast 

Mrs. Betty kK ( 


























THIS FAMOUS FOOD 
tones up the entire system 
iids digestion—clears the 


| 
ski banishes constipatior 


ee 


J Nenana Zz ‘ la 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 








NEof thoselittlethings 

that make the living 
room in Mr, Child’s home 
beautiful in detail as well as 
in general design and pro- 
portions is the character of 
the moldings in the case- 
ment sash. If the photo- 
graph were larger you 
could see that each thin 
division bar between the 
panes of glass is delicately 
molded. The drawing 
above is a cross-section of 
a muntin, or division bar, 
and shows the exact shape 
of this molding. All Curtis 
Woodwork shows care in 

such matters. 








i ‘ ee : 
4 ig Pore 




















Casement sash, with small, well-proportioned panes, are attractive from the interior as well as the exterior. This 
photograph, taken in the living room of the home of Mr. Edward T. Child, in Larchmont, New York, shows 
their interior beauty. The noted architect and author, Mr. Aymar Embury II, was the architect of this house. 
The New Rochelle Coal and Lumber Company, New Rochelle, N.Y., supplied the Curtis Woodwork. 


So much beauty is due to woodwork alone! 


That 1s why some people are able to get a wealth 
of beauty into their homes for very little money 


OU have seen homes in which a great deal 
of money has been lavished on rugs, furniture, 
curtains. Yet they are indifferent, if not ac- 

tually unattractive—not a bit homelike. 


You have seen others in which very little has been 
spent on furnishings. Yet these interiors catch and 
please the eye. They are restful, beautiful— because 
they have beautiful woodwork. Woodwork is struc- 
turally a part of the house itself, being built into it 
when the house is constructed. At the same time 
it has something of the character of furniture. 


A home in which the doors and windows and trim 
are tastefully designed is attractive even though 
sparingly furnished. And beautiful furnishings ap- 
pear at their best only when set off by woodwork 
that is properly designed. 


Yet the right kind of woodwork for your house won't 
cost half as much as you will spend on your furniture 
and furnishings. It won't cost one-eighth as much 
as you will put into other materials and labor. 


a] DOORS W iI 


Therefore, give particular attention to the selec- 
tion of doors, windows, trim, stairway! And have 
good built-in china closets, mantels, bookcases, and 
kitchen dressers. Choose Curtis 


now select the designs suitable to the style and plan of 
your house from the Curtis dealer’s stock or from his 
Curtis Catalog. These items are manufactured in 
advance of your needs. Confine 





Woodwork and look for the Curtis 
trademark to be sure you are get- 
ting Curtis. Then much of your 
furnishing will be done before 
you move in. 


Now easy to have beautiful 
woodwork 
Builders of expensive homes have 
always realized the importance of 
beautiful woodwork. To be sure 
they had it, they employed archi- 
tects to“detail’”’ it specially for them. 
Today builders of homes of all 
sizes can have beautiful woodwork. 











your selections to Curtis sizes and 


designs (consult the Curtis dealer 
on this important point). Then 
there will be no errors in produc- 
tion, and no disappointments so 
common with made-to-order mill- 
work. And every Curtis article is 
not only of known design, but is 
uniformly of the same construc- 
tion as every other similar article, 
because all are made by one man- 
ufacturer, and according to definite 
standards of construction. 





Designed by architects 





And they save the extra expense of 
made-to-order construction. 
You and your architect or buildercan 


N DOW S FRAMES 


This Curtis stair C-908 is in the home of Mr 
Morton Hall, Albany, New York, and wa 
supplied by The Blakeslee Lumber Company 


who knou 
You can depend on Curtis Wood- 
work being right from every stand- 
S 


MOLDING 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 






































ee mae 


“OU will see many ma 

tels that look something 
likethis onein Mr. Miller's 
living room. But they will 
not be quite so pleasing to 
the eve. Why not? Because 
they will lack its graceful 
proportions and the subtle 
beauty of its moldings. It 
is SO easy to get the shelf 
too wide or too long; and 
the moldings underneath 
too heavy or too sharp or 
too something. Above is a 
cross-section of the mante!- 
shelf itself which shows 
the intricate pattern that is 
responsible for the beauty 
= of this Curtis design 

















¢/. 


The heavy, thick mantelpieces that weighted down fireplaces built as recently as five years ago have 


given Wa 


a lovely background it makes for the furnishings of the room. ‘The painting is from a photogra 
taken in the home of Mr. Frank Miller, Albany, N. Y.; The Blakeslee Lumber Company, dealers. 


point of architecture and interior decorating, be- 
cause every item has been designed from authentic 
originals by architects of standing. 


The best houses in America and England have sug- 























Choose your French doors as you would windows; see that they have 
narrow stiles and rails and that they are divided into small, well- 


proportioned panes, with nicely molded muntin bars between. Curtis 


recommends French doors like those above. These Curtis doors 
C-321 are from the home of Mr. Francis T. Hunter, in New Rochelle, 
New York; E. D. Parmelee, architect; New Rochelle Coal and 
Lumber Company, dealers. The trim around these doors is C-1620. 





TRIM 





STAIR 


better proportioned and more graceful designs such as this Curtis design C-615. Note what 





gested designs suitable for modern homes. These 
designs are authentic . . . beautiful . . . appropriate. 


Good design has not added one cent 
to Curtis Woodwork prices 

Every article of Curtis Woodwork is manufactured, 
in standard sizes and approved woods, in quantities. 
That brings down production costs. That is why, 
when the many points of superiority in Curtis Wood- 
work are taken into account, it costs no more than 
ordinary millwork. Very often it actually costs less 
when such expense items are included as sanding and 
cutting and fitting on the job. 


Go see some Curtis Woodwork and judge for your- 
self. The leading dealer in woodwork in your town 
(if you live east of the Rockies) probably handles the 
line and has some in stock or on display. He will 
also show you his Curtis Catalog from which you 
and your architect or builder can select the designs 
and sizes to fit your plans; or write for a free copy 
of “Curtis Woodwork,” 32 pages, illustrated. 


The Curtis Companies Service Bureau 
435 Curtis Building, Clinton, Iowa 


We cannot legally prevent imitators from copying our 
patterns and designs. The law, however, does pre 
vent others from using our trademark. Make sure that 


the woodwork you buy—sash, doors ings of 


,» moid 
interior woodwork—bears the CURTIS trademark 








PARTS : BUILT-IN 





BE6 & Ce Clinton, lowa; Curtis 





If you are planning to build a Colonial house, select a Curtis en- 
trance like this one (C-100) in which all the niceties of design are 


taken care of for you by the noted architects who have designed 
Curtis Woodwork. This photograph is from a home in Germantown, 
Philadelphia; The Gillingham Co., Philadelphia, dealers. 


“ “ “ 

If you expect to attend the Sesqui-Centennial Inter 
nauonal Exposition in Philadelphia, see che Curtis 
Ww iwork in the “Save the Surface’ bungalow 
facing Patterson Avenue in front of Treasure Island 


Curtis & Yale Co., Wausau, Wisconsin; Curtis-Yale 
M 


Holland Co., Minneapolis 


Michigan; Curtis Sash & Door ¢ 
Curtis, Towle & Pais 
Towle & Paine Co., 1 
Sash ¢ Chicago 
Eastern Sales Off 


Cari Companie 


CABINET WORK | 






















Are your 
Dr. JEKYLL and Mr. HYDE °? 


Make the Specification Chart your guide to “ The 
Right Paper for the Purpose’’. This Chart lists 
and suggests the uses of Bond Paper in modern 
business, and indicates for each use one or more 
of the Nine Standardized Eagle-A Bonds. 


May we send you four paper buy- 
ing guides— The Primer — The 
Chart—a booklet ‘The Correct 
Use of Bond Papers" and sample 
PortfolioofEagle-A Bond Papers? 


TI. 
ja MARK OF 


¢ 1926,A.W. P. Co 


QUALITY -STANDARDS 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


sales letters like 


Dr. Jekyll was a man of high character and 
enviable reputation, but the degrading influence 
of Mr. Hyde prevailed. Many sales letters of 
high character, coming from firms of enviable 
reputation, are handicapped by the influence of 
poor stationery. 


Usually, the sales letter is written by one man, 
and the stationery is purchased by another. The 
one man’s aim is to carry a message of enthu- 
siasm, to create confidence, to sincerely “‘put 
over”’ the big story of his organization—while, 
necessarily, the other man’s inclination is to cut 
costs. 


The Specification Chart is a fair meeting ground 
between the man who desires to keep expenses 
down and the man who must keep sales up. 








The Chart assures the right price, as well as 
the right paper, because these Nine Standard- 
ized grades, covering all business requirements, 
are made in volume by the world’s largest 
makers of fine papers, with every resulting 
economy in production and distribution. 


AMERICAN-WRITING PAPER: COMPANY 
Makers of Eagle-A Writing, Printing, 
Specialty and Industrial Papers 
Holyoke, Massachusetts 


EAGLE-A 
Business PA PE RS 





August 14,1926 








(Continued from Page 120) 

“Hold him,’”’ commanded Cesar in his 
most authoritative voice. 

Welford held. He was accustomed to 
taking orders from Cesar and just at this 
moment was in no mood to excite further 
ire. But he did question. 

““Whaffo’?”’ 

“To hol’—what you think? I 
Then Cesar had another idea. ‘I has bor- 
ried this baby to take a pitcher with.” 

Welford’s not to question why; Welford’s 
but to do or die. Welford did! 

Cesar turned hurriedly away and flung 
parting instructions over his shoulder: 

““You remain right where you is at, Wel- 
ford. I goes an’ gits Exotic Hines an’ his 
camera. Us starts shootin’ right now.” 

“Is you comin’ right back?” 

“Quick as I an’ Exotic can git heah. You 
remain where you is at.”’ 

*“Y-y-yas-suh,’”’ said the unfortunate 
Welford doubtfully. Ordinarily he might 
have argued, but not at this moment. 

And so J. Czsar Clump left Mr. Welford 
Potts standing in the street clutching a 
strange Italian child, while he himself swung 
off —not in search of a cameraman, but ona 
still hunt for an interpreter. He moved 
rapidly and relievedly in the general di- 
rection of Via Roma. He turned a corner 
and vanished from the sight of Mr. Welford 
Potts. 

Thus far Mr. Potts did not doubt the 
honesty of his chief’s statements. Welford 
held Cesar in highest esteem, and if, in that 
few moments, Cesar claimed to have de- 
veloped a picture hunch and the baby to 
use the hunch with—then Mr. Potts was 
pleased but not surprised. He had been too 
long intimate with the amazing function- 
ings of Mr. Clump’s fertile brain. 

But Welford was neither a good nurse nor 
an enthusiastic one. He didn’t know how 
to hold a child and he was not adept in con- 
torting his physiognomy into expressions 
which delight extreme youth. He tried his 
best, but the baby did not seem satisfied. 
It squirmed and whimpered. Unfortu- 
nately for Welford, it did not shriek. That 
might have signaled Mrs. Carmelina Pe- 
tronio that all was not as it should be. And 
as for Welford, he didn’t even know that 
there was a Mrs. Carmelina. He only 
knew that he waited an unhappy and in- 
terminable time for the return of J. Cesar. 

The baby became restless and Welford 
impatient. He moved slowly down the 
street toward the spot where Cesar had 
vanished. He wished to meet Mr. Clump 
halfway. At the congested corner he paused 
uncertainly, peering right and left. In a 
crowd, two blocks away, he fancied he 
discerned the checkered cap of his director, 
and so, with firm and positive strides, Mr. 
Welford Potts and baby quitted that neigh- 
borhood to meet Mr. Clump. 

But, unfortunately for all concerned, the 
checkered cap was a mirage. Its possessor 
was not J. Cesar, and Welford found him- 
self completely bewildered as to which of 
the narrow streets it was from which he had 
so confidently turned. 

Meanwhile J. Cewsar’s quest for an in- 
terpreter had not been immediately suc- 
cessful. He achieved Via Roma eventually 
and moved toward the Arcade, where in- 
terpreters are usually to be found by the 
dozen. But it seemed that early in the day 
two huge transatlantic liners—one on Medi- 
terranean cruise and the other engaged in 
circling the globe—had berthed in Naples 
and their passengers were swarming over 
the city. English-speaking guides were 
scarce and at a premium. 

Twenty-five minutes elapsed before the 
inevitable young man sidled up to him and 
inquired to know whether the American 
cared to view Pompeian dances. Ceasar 
clutched the man by the arm and explained 
his dire need for an interpreter. The man 
consented to rent his services for a half hour 
or so in exchange for fifty lire, which was, at 
the exchange rate of the day, precisely two 
dollars in American money. 

J. Cwsar did not return immediately to 
the vicinity of his friend Welford. That, he 
reflected, would be bad strategy. He had 


THE SATURDAY 





informed Welford that the baby was part of 
a motion picture and that he had gone in 
search of Exotic Hines. It behooved him, 
therefore, to return to Welford with the 
cameraman and to make some pretense of 
shooting, else Welford’s present humility 
would be engulfed by a tidal wave of re- 
sentment. 

Mr. Clump and his guide rented a bat- 
tered old taxicab and sped to the Albergo 
Regal where the entire Midnight troupe was 
housed at thirty lire a day a person, in- 
clusive of breakfasts. Exotic was in the 
lobby, wrestling unsuccessfully with a na- 
tive cigarette. Caesar ordered the camera, 
and five minutes later Mr. Hines, Mr. 
Clump and the interpreter were headed 
back toward the central part of Naples. 
They alighted before the royal palace and 
started on foot toward the place where Wel- 
ford was supposed to be. They shoved 
through Via Roma, walking in the middle 
of the street and dodging horse cabs and 
taxis with the dexterity born of necessity 
and practice. Exotic Hines was the only 
grumbler—his camera was heavy and Mr. 
Clump proffered no assistance. 

It was not difficult for Cesar to locate his 
street, in as much as he had taken the pre- 
caution to count corners. He led the way 
to the right, up the street, around a corner 
and into trouble. 

He knew it was trouble the minute he 
saw it. There hovered over the wailing, ex- 
cited crowd which thronged the narrow 
thoroughfare a miasma of disaster. And 
high above the din rose the shrill, hysterical 
voice of Mrs. Carmelina Petronio explain- 
ing to all and sundry that her beloved 
bambino had been kidnaped by a brunet 
American. 

Cesar was in the middle of it before he 
had a chance to reconsider. He cast one 
wild glance about and realized that Wel- 
ford Potts had vanished. So had the baby. 
And just as he turned to emulate their 
strategic example, Mrs. Carmelina Pe- 
tronio spied him. 

It was a moment of high embarrassment 
for Cesar. Mrs. Carmelina descended upon 
him in a cloud, howling for her bambino. 
Cesar explained quickly —in English—that 
he had loaned the baby toafriend. Eventu- 
ally the interpreter managed to understand 
something of what was transpiring and en- 
deavored to explain. The crowd closed in 
about Cesar and the interpreter, but Exotic 
tines managed to remove himself from the 
congestion. 

He sauinted at the sun, placed his cam- 
era firmly on the ground, inspected it, and 
took a few preliminary turns of the crank. 
Then he waited. 

Now the interpreter was explaining to 
Mrs. Petronio that her infant was quite 
safe in the arms of the American’s friend. 
Mrs. Petronio demanded to know where 
that friend was, and when she learned that 
Cwsar himself did not know she unleashed 
a howl of fury. Cesar glanced wildly about. 
He tried unsuccessfully to back out of the 
crowd. The other tenements were spewing 
out humanity. The streets became almost 
impassable. Mr. Exotic Hines, his pro- 
fessional instinct aroused, ground many feet 
of excellent mob stuff. 

Then, just when it seemed that extreme 
mayhem was about to be committed on J. 
Cesar Clump, a vision appeared from the 
high end of the street—and again it was 
Welford Potts, the elegant star. 

Welford recognized the street for which 
he had been desperately searching, and far 
down below he saw the crowd and his di- 
rector. He increased his pace, held the 
baby out before him and advanced toward 
his chief. Exotic Hines cranked his camera. 

Cesar emitted a yell of triumph. ‘‘ Yon- 
der he comes!” he exulted, and pointed. 
Mrs. Carmelina saw. Being naturally an 
emotional lady she started up the steep 
street at top speed to collect her long-lost 
child. Behind her trailed the mob, scarcely 
knowing what was occurring, but being 
very interested. Exotic Hines spoke softly 
to Director Clump. 

“Does you crave me to git all this, 


9. 


Cesar? 





EVENING POST 


Mr. Clump looked around. He saw the 
camera set up, he noticed that Exotic had 
reversed the visor of his cap, signal to all 
the world that footage was being accumu- 
lated. 

The brain of Mr. Julius Cawsar Clump 
dormant since the bleak day when the 
Midnight organization had sailed timidly 
from New York, commenced to click. He 
had not known that Exotic was photo- 
graphing this scene, but now that the 
knowledge was thrust upon him he realized 
that his troubles were at an end and that 
from this moment on, twenty-one colored 
persons were destined to remain constantly 
and excessively busy. 

In a split second J. Cesar was thinking 
in pictures. He looked upon the mob which 
swooped toward Welford with an eye which 
was purely professional and impersonal. 
He was tense and rigid. There was superb 
color in this scene—Mr. Potts advancing 
blithely down the street, Mrs. Petronio and 
her friends rising in a cloud to meet him; 
and there was drama, too, but it was only 
potential drama. 

Cesar knew instinctively that here was 
the place where something should happen. 
It was the perfect spot for disaster to 
descend upon Mr. Potts under the blinking 
eye of the camera. 

Then, in a white and blinding light, in- 
spiration hit Director Clump right in the 
head. He leaped onto a doorstep and bel- 
lowed directions at his masculine star. 

“Turn aroun’, Welford,” he yelled; “‘an 
run!” 

Mr. Potts did not hesitate. For two 
years he had done grotesquely absurd things 
under the lash of Mr. Clump’s directorial 
tongue and he had learned to do any and 
everything as, and when, ordered. So, 
without further ado, he turned away from 
the advancing Mrs. Petronio, clutched the 
infant to his skinny breast and bolted up 
the street. 

“‘Cam’ra!” shrieked Cesar delightedly. 
“Git it all, Exotic.” 


’ 


“*Tha’s the one thing I ain’t doin’ nothin’ 


else but,’”’ observed Mr. Hines grimly. 

There was plenty for him to get. For one 
rending instant Mrs. Carmelina Petronio 
stood rooted in horror at sight of this 
stranger leaping upward with her child. His 
actions meant to her, and to her friends, 
precisely what Director Clump had meant 
they should. 

The baby was being kidnaped. Mrs. 
Petronio distributed a howl beside which 
all her previous lamentations were as whis- 
pers; and, led by her, there started up 
that narrow, picturesque street as perfect a 
slapstick-comedy chase as the cinema has 
ever disclosed. Ladies, children, goats and 
dogs, yelling, gesticulating, leaping and fall- 
ing; Welford leading the way, supremely 
unconscious of his very actual danger and 
therefore pausing every few seconds to face 
the camera and register comedy terror. 

Mr. Clump held the chase until he was 
quite sure his principals were near the 
limit of registering range. Then he cupped 
his hands and megaphoned. 

“A’right, Welford. Give the lady her 
baby.” 

Exotic was instantly in action. He flung 
camera on shoulder and sped forward to 
the spot where the mob was now proceeding 
to show Mr. Potts, in actions, just what it 
thought of him. He made a quick set-up 
and ground away happily. 

Meanwhile Welford Potts was experi- 
encing a few decidedly hectic moments. He 
was surrounded by a haze of language, all 
of it insulting. The baby was snatched 
from his arms by a wild-eyed lady. But the 
crowd was not satisfied. Someone reache: 
out a strong hand, fastened it in Welford’ 
collar and tore his shirt. Somebody struck 
him. Somebody else tore his coat. 

For two age-long minutes Mr. Clump 
permitted his flock of extemporaneous and 
earnest extras to do their worst with the 
slender star. Then he ordered Mr. Hines to 
cease cranking, after which he advanced 
toward the irate Mrs. Carmelina Petronio 
waving aloft a new, crisp hundred-lire note. 


The sight of that much negotiable currency | 
























LASHING getaw ay that zips 

you ahead of traflic—dogged 
pulling power that flattens “low 
¢var” hills—that, plus a defi- 
nite saving of gasoline, is yours 
when you install a 


MILWAUKE 
Oil-less $15 
TIMER ras 


And this super-timer is cave 
free — needs no 
cleaning — no attention. Just 
put it on and forget it. 


i 


oiling — no 


You will notice the difference 
in power at once. Sprays of 
sparks flash quickly to the heart 
of the mixture, producing a 
full, perfectly timed explosion 
in every cylinder 

This is the self-centering timer— 
both rotor and 
in line with camshaft. 


case always 
There- 
fore, the timing is permanent- 
ly acc throughout the 
life of the unit. The patented 
‘‘Wipe-and-Break” principle 


keeps the tungsten points clean 


urate 


—no pitting. 





ind a Mil- 


Your first drive be 


waukee Oil-less Timer will be 
a real surprise. The new power 
and pick-up will amaze you. 
MILWAUKEE MOTOR PRODUCTS, 
Milwaukee l U.S.A 








TIMER HEADQUARTERS - since 1905 





Oil-less Timer 


Roiler Timer 
amous ba 
ps lite case Mode 
its Short-pr 
Brenze bru 


Timing System 


sesOillessprin . 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 











| wildered 
| a half dozen close-ups. 

















Taste it! Instantly you get the sharp tang of the 
important salt in Pebeco which starts the mouth glands 
functioning as they should to insure the absolute cleanliness 
of the teeth and keep the entire mouth sweet and healthy. 


Its clean after-feeling 


lasts 777 


its pungent taste 
insures the health 
of teeth and gums 


‘VEN in childhood the mouth 
glands on whose action apes 
the sweetness and health of the 
entire mouth, begin to slow up. 
The soft foods we eat do not exer- 
cise them! Soon they are supplyin 
less and less of the fluids whic 
prevent decay. 

To keep these mouth glands active, 
Pebeco Tooth Paste was formulated. It 
contains an important salt, the most 
effective force known in restoring the 
action of the mouth glands. 

Use Pebeco every day. See how it keeps 
the teeth clean and shining, the gums 
firm and healthy. 

Made by Pebeco, Inc., a division of 
Lehn & Fink Products Company. Sole 
Distributors Lehn & Fink, Inc., Bloomfield, 
N. J., Canadian distributors, Lehn & Fink 
(Canada) Limited, Toronto. 














The numerals in 
the photograph to 
the left show where 
the mouth glands, 
that must be kept 
young and active, 
are located. 












































How glorious to feel 
all through the day that 


your mouth is sweet and fresh 
as a child’s! That you can 
never offend other people. 
“I like the cool odes 
feeling Pebeco leaves,” says 
a very modern young person. 
“It is tonic as a cold shower.” 


Free Offer: 


Send coupon today for generous tube 








PrEBECO 
keeps the 
Mouth Glands 
young 7 + Siveet 


Gty 





Lehn & Fink, Inc., Dept. L-53, Bloomfield, N. J. 


Send me free your new large size sample tube of Pebeco 
Tooth Paste. 


PRINT PLAINLY IN PENCIL 








| had soothing effect upon Mrs. Petronio. 


She was instantly all smiles and gratitude. 
The anger of the crowd shimmered and 
expired before this enormous generosity. 

And so peace descended once more upon 
that narrow Neapolitan street and Mr. 
Welford Potts gathered himself up from the 
gutter. 

“‘Cam’ra,” whispered Mr. Clump, sensing 
the value of this very sincere dilapidation. 


| Git some good shots of him.” 


Mr. Potts was a terrible-looking object. 


| His sartorial elegance had completely dis- 


appeared. His countenance was lopsided. 
His expression was superbly comic, because 
it was not assumed. He was weak and be- 
and Cesar instantly commanded 


Then he paid his interpreter, left Exotic 


| to pack his camera and walked toward Via 
| Roma with Mr. Potts. 


“‘An’ that,” observed Mr. Clump, “is 
that.” 
“Huh?” queried Mr. Potts. ‘Which is 


| what?” 


“Midnight’s fust European comedy.” 
““Wh-what’s the story of it, Cesar?” 
“‘Shuh! How come I should bother my 


| head about that? I got action an’ color an’ 


THE HARVEST 


(Continued 


variations in plants, because I soon deter- 
mined that success could only come to me 
through raising better vegetables and de- 
livering them to the market earlier than 
anyone else could do. Taxing my wits to 


| find a way to make my garden pay, I came 


to my first illuminating contact with the 
mysteries and miracles of Nature, and that 
contact resulted in my life work. 

Better vegetables, I saw at once, meant 
not only the best seeds and roots to be had, 
but the best that could be produced. In 
those days, with very few exceptions, no 
one had paid much attention to this ideal— 
this ‘‘best that could be produced”’—and 
what we had to take was what we could 
get. That set me thinking. To produce 
vegetables more cheaply than the other 


| gardeners meant cutting corners in produc- 


tion and marketing, and there my Yankee 


| instincts, I suppose, served me well. But 


what instantly fascinated me was the 


| thought of producing vegetables of fine 


quality and getting them into the market 
ahead of everyone else. Here was a goal for 


| any inquisitive and active mind! Here was 


something you could get all excited about! 
Here was a place to use wits and ingenuity 


| and inventive faculty, and another faculty 
| that, at the time, I did not know I had, 
| even latently—the power of choice as be- 
| tween two apparently identical varieties or 


even between two apparently identical 
plants. Looking back, I envy myself the 
thrilling and inspiring research and experi- 
ment these considerations opened up to me. 


First Experiments 


My mind went back to the winter garden 
I had found in the woods as a boy. There 


| Nature had deviated from her apparent 


law of seasons and produced summer plants 


| in the dead of January. How? Obviously 


the deep-flowing spring, with its warmer 
waters sufficiently contrasted in tempera- 


| ture with the bitter cold of New England to 
| temper the atmosphere where they rose, 
| made growth possible; but I knew enough 
| to understand that vines and shrubs and 


flowers grew according to their season and 
withered according to a hereditary tend- 
ency that had impressed itself on them 
through thousands of generations of growth. 
The warm-water spring accounted for the 
equability of the temperature in that spot, 
but it did not account for the luxuriant and 
lush growth of plants that should be dead. 
What I had supposed was a fixed and im- 
mutable law of Nature was not, then, fixed 
and immutable at all. The law was there, 
but I had misinterpreted it. What was the 
influence behind this phenomenon? 


August 14,1926 


comedy an’ laughs, an’ tomorrow mawnin’ 
I gits Forcep Swain to auth me a story 
which fits all the stuff I got. Then I com- 
pletes the pitcher.” 

“Tha’s grand,”’ murmured Welford with 
scant enthusiasm. ‘‘But art is showly 
tough.” 

Mr. Potts searched diligently through 
his pockets. 

The cigarettes he had purchased as a 
peace offering were no more. Only torn pa- 
pers and loose tobacco existed where once 
the pride of a Virginia factory had been. 
The battered star spoke pleadingly: 

“You ain’t mad at me no mo’, is you, 
Cesar?” 

“No. Co’se I ain’t.” 

“Hot ziggity dam!”’ exulted Mr. Potts. 
**An’ I guess us two ain’t done somethin’, 
huh? Golla, Cesar, what you reckon Presi- 
dent Latimer is gwine say when he sees this 
swell pitcher you tooken?”’ 

Director Clump experienced a slight 
twinge of his old bitterness. 

“You cain’t tell about an ol’ crab like 
him,” he observed pessimistically. ‘‘The 
way he’s been low-rating me recently he 
might even claim this whole thing was an 
accident.” 


OF THE YEARS 


from Page 7) 


It was presently clear to me that heredi- 
tary traits and characteristics could be 
overcome, modified, changed and adapted. 
That much, though perhaps not in so many 
words, I had for a starting point. I began 
to experiment with plants in a crude, super- 
ficial way, without any order to my trials 
and without keeping any record of results. 
I may say, though, that years later I dis- 
covered that there had been an unconscious 
order to my trials and that I had an almost 
perfect record of them in my mind, and 
those clear mental data proved perhaps 
more useful to me than a whole card index 
would have been. I found certain bean, 
pea and potato plants that grew more 
rapidly than the others in the same row, 
with all cultural conditions apparently the 
same. I marked those plants, and when 
harvest time came I left the fruits on the 
plants and let them go to seed, or, as with 
the potato, I dug the early tubers for re- 
planting. 


The Potato-Seed Ball 


The place where most stories of my work 
would begin, I suppose, is with my finding 
of the potato-seed ball that resulted in the 
Burbank potato. That was an important 
discovery to me, and it did set my feet 
finally and successfully on my road. But I 
have thought often lately that if it had not 
been the potato it would have been some- 
thing else, for I was determined before that 
time to find the vulnerable spot in Nature 
and make her my coworker with plants. 
Nothing could have delayed me long, and 
it was only fortunate, probably, that the 
incident of the potato came as it did, and so 
hurried things on for me somewhat. 

The potato story has been told again and 
again, often correctly, and I am only going 
to summarize it here. In New England we 
grew large quantities of potatoes, but they 
were generally small, of a reddish color and 
few of them good keepers. It required no 
genius to know that if a large, white, fine- 
grained potato could be produced it would 
displace the older varieties and give its dis- 
coverer a great advantage over his com- 
petitors. I tried crossing and selecting, with 
poor results. 

Then I found a potato-seed ball! I use 
an exclamation point. That is because 
well, it was what an astronomer would use 
if he discovered a new solar system. A 
potato-seed ball was not unheard of, but it 
was a great rarity, and I couldn’t learn of 
anyone who had done anything about the 
event, even when it occurred. I did some 
thing. I planted theseedsin that ball. I had 

(Continued on Page 128 










THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


INTRODUCING 


the 


Improved Packard Six 
































Today’s Packard Six will out-perform, in traffic and in speed, 
any Packard car ever built with one exception. 
The exception is today’s Packard Eight—The Boss of the Road. 


The Packard Six has long excelled in beauty, in comfort and 
in distinction. In simplicity and in economy. Greater than 
ever in all of these, it now excels in performance. 

Those who drive the improved Packard Six will let others pass 
as a matter of courtesy, never of necessity. 


H In car beauty contest or contest on the open road it will 


| more than hold its own against any Six, or any Eight, except- 
‘ ing cars of racing type. 
Most useful and appreciated of all, however, will be the car’s 


agility and ease of control in crowded traffic. 


For more than six years the Packard Six has been an inspira- 
tion to motor car engineers. It has been the most copied car 
in the world, mechanically and in body lines. 


Now, the industry has something new to inspire it—the most 

brilliant performance of any Six, or any Eight, light or heavy. 
f If you would know the finest in motor cars permit us to de- 

monstrate the improved Packard Six. 

We give you the word of one of the oldest and most conserva- 
tive companies that you will experience the greatest thrill of 
' your motoring life. 

Despite the fact that the glory of all previous Packards has been 

{ surpassed, Packard Six prices have not been increased. 

You are cordially invited to ride in and drive the improved 

Packard Six whether you intend to buy a new car or not. 
We shall be more than repaid in seeing you get your thrill 
j and in the story you will tell your friends. 





Our next advertisement will tell of the improved Packard Eight— 


THE GREATEST CAR IN THE WORLD 


FAS AA RL 


T 











5 UCK _ N W H O O W N 











128 


The Ashless Ashstand 


~ 


This shows how all 
smokers’ refuse 
drops down the 
tube to the air- 
tight base where 
it is imprisoned 
and smothered. 


Non- Tipping — Non- Spilling 
Ashless Odorless 


Simply drop your matches, 
ashes and stubs into Smoka- 
dor. They are instantly dis- 
patched through the _bot- 
tomless tray and hollow tube 
to the airtight base, where 
the debris safely remains 
for convenient disposal. 


It Keeps the Place Clean 


Smokador frees you from 
that offensive smokers’ ref- 
use which has always been 
the bane of cleanliness. 
And if knocked over, 
Smokador just bobs up 
again—nothing is spilled or 
broken, nothing is soiled or 
burned. 


It Prevents Fires 


Smokador, besides being a 
repository for matches, 
ashes and stubs—dead or 
burning—is equipped with 
Snuffer Clips which hold 
idle cigars, big or little. If 
forgotten, these “smokes” 
burn up to the clips and 
the clips snuff them out. 
Smokador prevents fires! 


Five Colors To Choose From 


Dark bronze, mahogany, 
Chinese red, olive green, 
willow green. Price: $10.50 
delivered east of the Missis- 
sippi; $11, west. Ask your 
dealer today to show you a 
genuine Smokador— with 
Smokador Snuffer Clips. 
Avoid imitations. If he 
can’t supply a real Smoka- 
dor, order direct from 


Dept. H. 


SMOKADOR MBG. CO. INC. 
130 W. 42nd St., New York 


SMOKADOR 


LG US PAT OFFKK 


The Ashless Ashstand 
: t 19 kador Mfg 


( Sr I 


THE SATURDAY 


| (Continued from Page 126) 
| twenty-three seeds. I got twenty-three 
seedlings, and from that whole number, 
although there were many that were an 
improvement on any potato then grown, I 
selected two that were amazing, valuable, 
and a distinct type. They were as different 
from the old Early Rose as the beef cattle 
| of today are different from the old Texas 
longhorn. 

It was from the potatoes of those two 
plants, carefully raised, carefully dug, 
| jealously stored, and painstakingly planted 
\the next year, that I built the Burbank 
|potato. And it was from the Burbank 
| potato that I made my beginning as a plant 
| developer. Not only did the new potato 
| prove to me that Nature was ready to co- 
operate and collaborate with man, but it 
made me a small name and paid me some 
small amount of cash. Both of these were 
important factors in my career. They are 
important factors in the career of any 
young man, and those who affect to despise 
'either are talking rubbish. Money and 
fame, if you go out after them without any 
other motive, are a pretty low order of goal, 
| but if your goal is service or expressing 
yourself or making the world a better place 
| in which to live, you will find that a re- 
|spected name and a few dollars in your 
pocket will grease the runners considerably. 
You'll go farther with less strain on the 
trace chains and you won't tire so easily on 
the first short hill. 


Environment's Tap, Tap, Tap 


| Meantime there was an influence in my 
/environment that I did not reckon with, 
and yet that determined my life for me. 
Let me give you a notion of how environ- 
ment seems to me to operate and do its 
work on the living individual—plant, 
animal or man. 

It is not the duration of an environment 
that affects heredity; it is the amount of 
pressure exerted. The more sensitive the 
plant or the man, the more readily he takes 
the impressions his surroundings or situ- 
ation give off. It is all a matter of vibra- 
tions—a matter of response to vibrations. 
In no other way than through vibrations do 
we get anything. You know that the 
camera plate is struck with blows of light to 
burn into the sensitized surface the picture 
you want to take. If you make what is 
called a time exposure the blows are gentle, 
but sooner or later they make a dent in the 
gelatin. The lighter parts are burned 
deeply, and the shadows and black places 
are only just touched. But it is the steady 
tap, tap, tap of the rays of light that do the 
work. 

We are all made—plants and fish and 
cats and elephants and men—of organisms 
built of tissue that is built of cells. The life 
force is in the cells—protoplasm, made up 
of almost everything in the universe in in- 
finitely minute particles. Now, because 
that protoplasm which, Huxley says, is the 
basis of life, is made up of almost every- 
thing in Nature, it responds to almost 
everything in Nature. Protoplasm is the 
sensitized film on our body and intellectual 
plates; vibrations from about us strike it 
and gradually they make a dent. Repeti- 
tion, repetition, repetition—that is the 
process by which environment bends and 
molds and directs and diverts and changes 
us. Why does the great composer choose 
two or three little phrases of music and 
work them into a symphony in a thousand 
different ways? Why does the orator use the 
same simple lines again and again, playing 
with them, decorating them, embellishing 
them, speaking them in a low tone, then in 
an abrupt voice, then asa question? Repeti- 
tion! We say: “Give a dog a bad name and 
you might better drown him.”’ Because the 
badness of the dog is stressed day after day, 
month after month, until the whole neigh- 
borhood believes he is bad, and after a while 
the dog itself begins to figure that there 
may be something in the idea. 

Perhaps one of the first words I ever 
heard was California. Certainly there must 
have been talk enough about this country, 


EVENING POST 


for the year before I was born was the year 
in which gold was discovered here, and in 
the ten or twelve years following, emigration 
had set steadily this way from every part 
of the land. Moreover, my older brother, 
George, had come here in 1854, and his oc- 
casional letters—he was not a letter writer, 
but a man who did things and left the talk- 
ing about them to others—undoubtedly 
fired the interest of the older people and the 
curiosity of the boys. All that I heard of 
California day after day, week after week, 
from every side and source, even during a 
time and in a neighborhood where slavery 
and the strong will of the South were lively 
topics, impressed itself on my mind. I do 
not know that I ever suddenly announced 
my belief that California would be the 
place for a plant experimenter to work; 
repetition, repetition, repetition struck the 
storied name on my consciousness until I 
was as certain to go West as I was to con- 
tinue plant experimentation. 

And here is a happy moment to take one 
more step with you in the scientific course 
necessary to an understanding of much that 
must come in these rambling papers of 
mine on the work and memories of my 
years. Because here is an excellent exam- 
ple of what environment and repeated im- 
pressions did to negative the strong pull of 
my heredity. 

New Englanders were notoriously fixed 
and set sort of folks; they were the oldest 
Americans, they were well satisfied where 
they were, they were conservative, they 
were not always chasing will-o’-the-wisps. 
Even their famous seamen, wanderers and 
adventurers and pathfinders though they 
were, usually came home. The New Eng- 
land heredity exerted a strong influence on 
all its youth to strike their roots still more 
deeply into the parent soil. And you must 
not suppose that heredity is only a matter 
of red hair or speaking German or bearing 
a family resemblance to your father and 
grandfather. Heredity is a matter of ideas, 
ideals, habits of thought, point of view, 
temperament and all the other mental and 
intellectual aspects of a man; the heredity 
of the Navajo Indian is to be a wanderer, a 
nomad, but of the Hopi to be a town 
dweller. Just as truly it is the heredity of a 
family of scholars and preachers to be 
studious or literary, while in a long line of 
merchants or manufacturers you will find 
the hereditary pull is toward business. 

There is an interesting point that comes 
in here left-handedly that must be consid- 
ered, and I have thought about it a good 
deal, even though my life work with plants 
gave me little opportunity to experiment 
with the facts. And that is the mingling of 
heredities through the meeting of two sexes 
in the offspring. 


Nature’s Provision for Change 


We accept sex as a fact and we accept the 
necessity for two sexes as a similar fact. 
But did it ever occur to you to wonder why 
Nature bothered to require two parents? 
I mean by that question to ask you to for- 
get everything you know about the matter 
and consider it as though the whole plan of 
life were being instituted for the first time, 
and you were sitting in on the conference 
on ways and means. You would agree that 
there must be a law to compel the individ- 
ual plant or dogfish or toadstool or lynx or 
ape or man to desire to live, otherwise the 
first discouragement met with would be the 
end of that enterprise. You would agree, 
secondly, that the individual must be com- 
pelled to want to reproduce himself, or else 
the job of starting him off would have to be 
done over and over again. So you would be 
unanimously in favor of the law of self- 
preservation and the secondary law of the 
perpetuation of species. Very well; why 
not let each individual leave a cell some- 
where in a warm protected spot and then 
lie down and die, assured that the nested 
cell would be born into a copy of the orig- 
inal and that the species or family would go 
right on? 

I don’t think it was accidental — this ar- 
rangement that required two cells to meet 


August 14,1926 


and join to reproduce themselves in a new 
life. Notatall. I think it was for the very 
best reason that there is for anything in the 
miracle working of Mother Nature. I 
think it was because she knew that same- 
ness, monotony, exact reduplication over 
and over again would make this world the 
dullest point of light in the whole universe. 
Nature required variations, change, de- 
velopment, growth. She may or may not 
have wanted improvement—there is a 
great quarrel among the scientists on that 
fine point, and I’ll pass it by for the mo- 
ment. She did demand change—varia- 
tion—a constant blending of old stocks to 
make new forms, shapes, sizes, colors, and 
to make it possible for the individuals, 
whether plants or animals or humans, to 
move about and adjust themselves to new 
conditions and so give the earth the diversi- 
fication and interest that it has for us 
today. If the aster had re-created itself 
from one cell it would have been an aster, 
and no power on earth could have devel- 
oped it into a coreopsis to the end of 
time; if the Burbanks had been black- 
smiths and none of the strains brought 
into the family by the women they married 
had exerted their hereditary influence, I 
would have been a blacksmith, and proba- 
bly a poor one, and nothing could have 
changed me or given me a different chance. 


Roots of the Family Tree 


Nature saw all that, and by the simplest 
and most adroit single stroke that the whole 
history of biology records made it impossi- 
ble. She went a step farther and attached 
certain penalties to the single-cell or single- 
strain method of reproduction, so that what 
we call inbreeding is known to be a very 
risky thing to try, and cousins who marry 
often bring forth weak or sickly or defective 
children. No, Nature wanted variations, 
and she made it possible to have them from 
the very beginning— indeed, made it pretty 
difficult not to have them. And there is 
something you won’t find in most of the 
textbooks, and I think you will find it 
something worth musing over! 

This cunning provision Nature made 
brings us back to my discussion of the in- 
fluence of the environing gossip and excite- 
ment concerning California on my New 
England heredity. That heredity had in it 
not only the Burbank strain, but it had in 
it the pulls of my father’s mother’s hered- 
ity, and his grandmother’s and hers, and so 
on, back and back, until I was related dis- 
tantly, perhaps, to half the white people in 
the world; more than that, it had in it the 
pull exerted by the heredity of my own 
mother--a Ross—and her people, on both 
sides, spreading laterally and running 
through the tree of the families of earth 
until, on her side, I was probably related to 
the other half of the world’s white inhab- 
itants. In short, I was a product of all my 
heredity. And Mark Twain was not alto- 
gether joking, maybe, when he said that he 
had to abandon his efforts at getting up a 
genealogical tree for himself when he dis- 
covered that it included a horse thief or 
two. If there wasn’t a horse thief or an 


* embezzling bank cashier somewhere back in 


my line, I am certainly different from most 
folks. If you want to make a family tree 
that will really tell the whole story you will 
have to go on below the ground—-some- 
thing I notice the genealogists are all too 
canny to do--and follow the roots from tap 
and anchor main stems through the laterals 
and branches to the very tiny little threads 
at the ends and even then you would only 
be starting your task. 

I had, you can see, a variety of influences 
on me that were purely hereditary. My 
sensitized plate was struck repeatedly 
repetition, repetition, repetition — by an en- 
vironment interested in California. I was 
pulled irresistibly Westward. When my po- 
tato money came in and I knew that I had 
found my life work, I was ready to pull up 
stakes, and emigrated. 

Now we come to another very important 
influence that operates on our hereditary 

Continued on Page 131 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


he Oldest American Fire and 
Marine Insurance Company 


Founded. 1792 


Electricity is the modern servant —safe, effi- 
cient, economical. It is only when electricity is 
misused that it becomes a fire hazard—and the 
misuse of électricity and electrical equipment adds 
an enormous sum to the yearly loss of property 
valued at $500,000,000 and more. 


Improper or ‘‘home-made’’ installations, neglect 
of needed repairs, electrical appliances in careless 
hands—these, and not the appliances, are to blame 
when fire results. 

Consult an electrician when installing new 
appliances or making changes in your electric 
system. Take good care of your equipment, use 
it thoughtfully, and it will serve you well. 

The North America Agent urges Fire Preven- 
tion practices not only in the interest of your~ 
safety but because ‘lower fire losses will mean 
lower rates on insurance, protection. 


Insurance Company of 
North America 


PHILADELPHIA 


and the 


“ Hrdemnity Ins. Co. of North America 


write practically every form of insurance except life 


SAFETY RULES 
for Electricity 


Don't risk “home-made 
installations 


Have worn cords and insul 
ation replaced at once 
, 


Remember your electric 
iron—turn off current when 
not in use. Better still, dis- 
connect. 


Keep all heat generators on 
protective stands 
, 


Have wiring and connec 
tions, light fixtures and all 
electric equipment regularly 
inspected and repaired 


When in doubt, consult an 
electrician. 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 








rN 











RED HAT MOTOR OIL 


Made according to the specifications ° 
and under the rigid supervision of the 
wiuarimawcew®  T)ebendable Products 
of the Independent Oil Men of America. 
* * 
RED HAT GASOLINE _— [ In fi d S 

An independent brand of dependable l @ CTVIice 
ngeotne ~~ “a at the sign of the , . ; 
—— When you buy at the sign of the “Spread Red Eagle,” you in- 

sure getting the highest quality of gasoline or lubricating oil 


Bu at that the petroleum industry can deliver. 
Back of this sign are the “Pooled Resources” of a great 
. national organization ceaselessly correlating the results of 
the Si 71 extensive scientific research, and perfecting new and better 
standards of petroleum service. 


of the Gasolines—Motor Oils—Tractor Oils—Industrial Oils 
INDEPENDENT OIL MEN of AMERICA 


ASSOCIATION OFFICES: 624 SOUTH MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO 


“SPREAD RED EAGLE 


The “SPREAD RED EAGLE” is the Trade-mark of a nation-wide group of strong individual marketing units, 
operating under a National Advertising and Merchandising Plan to promote the sale of their products 































(Continued from Page 128 
tendencies to change and modify and direct 
them into new channels--the influence of 
education. Education is a form of environ- 
ment—an intellectual environment that is 
as definitely molding and directing as the 
pressure of a rock on a plant to force it to 
creep toward the light, or of a spring of 
water to give it the strength to grow taller 
than its kind. 

I am not speaking of my education by 
books in the schools. I am a good deal of a 
crank about the education of children, and 
probably I won’t be able to contain myself 
on that subject as we go on; right now I 
have in mind the influence on me of the 
greatest scientific thinker of our age—the 
man who changed the whole meaning and 
language of science—Charles Darwin. In 
Lancaster I had got hold of a book of his 
The Variation of Animals and Plants Under 
Domestication—it opened a new world to 
me. It told me in plain, simple sentences, 
as matter-of-fact as though its marvelous 
and startling truths were commonplaces, 
that variations came from cross breeding 
and selection, and that these variations 
seemed to be susceptible of permanent fix- 
ture in the individual. While I had been 
struggling along with my experiments, 
blundering on half truths and truths, the 
great master had been reasoning out causes 
and effects for me and setting them down in 
oraerly fashion, easy to understand, and 
having incredible possibilities for my work. 
I doubt if it is possibie to make anyone 
realize what this book meant to me. 


When Darwin Shook the World 


Big as the book was, and significant as it 
was to me, there was something else occur- 
ring at the same time which heightened its 
importance to me and doubled its influence 
and power over my mind. In 1859, Dar- 
win had published The Origin o: Species, 
and just when The Variations of Plants and 
Animals Under Domestication was stirring 
me all up, he shook the world with his 
Descent of Man. Almost immediately the 
storm broke, especially in the New England 
churches and homes. The theory that man 
had descended from an ancestry common to 
that of the apes—- Darwin never said any- 
thing about his descending from monkeys 
was blasnhemous, scurrilous, infamous, 
and other things even worse! Darwin was 
banned from the churches and from most 
homes, and those who read him were con- 
sidered as bad as he was. Perhaps I was 
always “‘ferninst the gover’ment,’’ as they 
say; at any rate, the man everyone was dis- 
cussing and most of them were damning 
was for that very reason interesting to me, 
and the controversy—a rather one-sided 
one in our neighborhood, I remember, since 
there were few to defend him—only served 
to heighten my interest in every word he 
wrote. The blows his personality and 
phrases struck on my sensitive mind were 
steady, sharp and persistent; my New 
England heredity was outweighed by the 
pressure of my environment—the talk of 
California, the furor against Darwin, and 
his clear and illuminating book—and I 
pushed out and away. 

I check myself here to be sure that I am 
telling the whole story, and a little guilty 
feeling comes over me. The fact is that 
there was an immediate and, to me at the 
time, climactic cause for the ultimate act of 


“Why?” said Earl Abbott, but Mr. 
Cameron had turned to Polly. 

“There’s a fellow at the club who can 
always dig up seats,’”’ Mr. Cameron said. 
“Perhaps I could sit near you.” 

Earl Abbott looked appealingly at Polly, 
but she was powdering her nose. 

‘“‘Ta-ta,”’ said Mr. Cameron. 
see you in the theater.” 

“*T hope,” said Mr. Abbott, but not au- 
dibly, ‘‘that I'll see you in hell.” 


“Hope I 





THE SATURDAY 


severing home ties and setting out for the 
West. I am sure now, and I think I was 
sure a few months after my arrival in Cali- 
fornia, that I was certainly destined to 
make the break, but if I had been asked as 
I boarded my train for the great adventure 
just why I was going so far away, with such 
apparent suddenness, I should have replied 
sadly that it was on account of an unre- 
quited love. The story of this early romance 
of mine has crept into the newspapers now 
and again. Thetruthis that I was very deep- 
ly fond of a beautiful young lady whoseemed 
to me, I remember, less ardent than I was. 
A trifling disagreement, two positive na- 
tures, probably hasty words—and I deter- 
mined that my heart was broken. To be 
frank, I think I gave that affair as my rea- 
son for coming West. 


Rolling Stones and Mossbacks 


Mary and I can look back now on those 
tragic days—for I am sure they were tragic 
to both of us—with smiles. Shortly after 
my arrival in California I wrote her, or she 
wrote me, and we resumed our friendship 
by letter. The friendship has been kept up 
all these years and has been very significant 
to both of us. Probably my Mary of those 
old times has had many an occasion to be 
thankful that I took her at her word when 
she told me—as I think she must have 
that I was not the only eligible young man 
in Massachusetts! There is the story, in a 
few words, of the early romance that drove 
me West. It was the proximate cause, 
probably the turning point. And it was 
rather heroic and romantic to use as an ex- 
cuse for this dramatic move in my life. 

I find, on looking back through letters 
written home at the time, and on considering 
all the facts, that there was another motive 
behind my decision, although I am not at 
all sure that I was conscious of it at the 
time. There are in those first California let- 
ters several references to the sense of free- 
dom California gave me, and now I can say 
that I was undoubtedly influenced by a de- 
sire to be my own man, unadvised by 
family or friends, and no longer compelled 
to explain or apologize for my choice of work 
or the methods I employed in getting at it. 

There are, I have observed, many pro- 
verbial adages that tell only a half truth, if 
that much; one of them is the saying that a 
rolling stone gathers no moss. It may bea 
fact that the young man who doesn’t know 
his own mind about a life work and who is 
always jumping from one thing to another 
will never get anywhere on thestraight, long 
road—though I am not so sure that this 
isn’t due to maladjustment to his environ- 
ment rather than to his instability. On the 
other hand, the stone that is planted in the 
home field and never stirs from there is 
pretty certain to gather nothing but moss 
and so to become that other proverbial 
monstrosity—a mossback! My belief is 
that you will find that most of the men in 
the world who have accomplished some- 
thing have done a considerable amount of 
rolling in their time, and have gathered a 
large amount of the varieties of moss that 
are most useful to us all—experience, ad- 
justability, adaptability, facility, acquaint- 
ance, breadth of view and vision, and the 
chance to learn just what it is in the work 
of the world that it is most useful for us 
todo. I ama poor hand at giving advice 
to the young, but I will say that if your 


(Continued from Page 15 


Polly and Earl were running the gantlet 
of traffic cops on the way to the theater and 
Tropic Doom. Polly spoke: ‘‘ Don’t you 
like Harvey Cameron?” 

Earl shifted gears savagely. Privately, 
he was pretending to himself that he was 
pulling the lever of a guillotine whereon re- 
posed the classic neck of Mr. Cameron. 

“In a word—no,” he said. ‘‘Do you?” 

“Yes, I do. There’s something so sure 
and strong about the way he does things.” 












EVENING POST 


environment or surroundings or situation 
seems to you to hamper and restrain and 
hobble you a sharp break with all that is old 
and settled and traditional may save you 
from becoming a mere cog. 

It was in 1875 that the stories of the 
West, Darwin, my unconscious sense of 
restraint in New England—and Mary 
sent me packing. I was twenty-six years 
old--a small, wiry, active young man, ob- 
servant, alert, inquisitive, and full of ideas 
about what I was going todo. A few very 
definite fundamental laws of Nature were 
fixed in my mind as a basis on which to 
build. I had read more science than most 
youths of my acquaintance, and all that I 
had read had been illuminated and crystal- 
lized for me by Darwin. In my luggage I 
had ten Burbank potatoes that I had been 
permitted to retain when I had sold the new 
variety to a New England seedsman. They 
were to be the foundation of my fortune 
and the beginning of my fame. I meant to 
round out both fortune and fame. It was 
some years later before I reached a turn in 
my road where I had to decide between 
them and my work that is an interesting 
chapter in these papers that must come in 
itsturn. For the moment I was pretty defi- 


nitely fixed in my ambition, and the bigger, | 


broader, more important meaning of life 
hadn’t come to me. I expect that the first 
person singular of the personal pronoun was 


the one I employed most in my thoughts, | 


whether I used it in conversation or not. 


Two Good Precedents 


That one-letter word “I.” For some 
years now I have been more proud than of 
any other one thing in my career that I 
have deleted at least a million I’s from my 
own manuscripts or from those prepared 
about me by others. Here they keep crop- 
ping up like the blotches in measles! They 
tell me that in such papers as these they 
cannot be avoided. I shrink from each one 
of them. I have been so long accustomed to 
fighting them off. But perhaps one can get 
hardened to them. Whitman used them 
more than any other man, perhaps, who 
ever lived; he said it was because he was 
preaching himself to the world, since he 
himself was the only man whose intimate 
nature and reactions he was acquainted 
with at first hand. And, turning to an old 
and well-loved book, I find Henry David 
Thoreau boldly stating his same case in the 
words, in his book called Walden: 


I should not obtrude my affairs so much on | 


the notice of my readers if very particular in- 
quiries had not been made by my townsmen 
concerning my mode of life. . In most 
books the first person is omitted; in this it will 
be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the 
main difference. We commonly do not remem- 


ber that it is, after all, always the first person | 


that is speaking. I should not talk so much 


about myself if there were anybody else whom | 


knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined 
to this theme by the narrowness of my experi- 
ence. Moreover, I, on my side, require of 
every writer, first or last, a simple account of 
his own life, and not merely what he has heard 
of other men’s lives; some such account as he 
would send to his kindred from a distant land; 
for if he has lived sincerely it must have been in 
a distant land to me. 


I am resigned. I will write of this har- 
vest of the years of mine, as though to you, 
my kindred, from a distant land! 





Editor’s Note—This is the first of a series of 
articles by Mr. Burbank and Mr. Hall. The next 
will appear in an early issue. 


THE TERRIBLE TROPICS 


“‘Crust,”’ said Earl Abbott. 

**And I like the way he carries himself 
so slender, erect.” 

“Like Ivanhoe, I suppose,” said Earl 
morosely. 

“Sort of.” 

Earl decapitated Mr. Cameron with his 
hand brake and they stopped in front of the 
theater. As they took their seats Earl 
Abbott made a wry face, for next to Polly 
there was a vacant seat. Earl said a prayer. 














What 


should a tire flap do? 


Tire flaps in straight side tires 
prevent the tube being pinched 
when the car is turning a corner. 
They also separate the tube from 
the metal rim and protect it from 
the ravages of rust. 

You always get a tire flap with 
every new tire, but the flap usu- 
ally gives out before the tire 
wears out. Whenever you change 
a tire, it is almost impossible to 
put the old flap back in exactly 
the same position as before. And 
that means, a worn, torn flap 
where it touches the rusty rim. 
The result is a pinched tube,-~a 
flat tire. 


A new flap at every change 


It will pay you to put in a new tire 
flap every time you change a tire. 
Twisted, torn or cut flaps are worse 
than punctures—because they can be 
avoided. Carry a spare flap in your car. 

D-D adjustable tire flaps give the 
longest wear and greatest protection. 
Fit all sizes of tires, including Balloons, 
are extra wide and strong. The side 
that touches the tube is covered with 
soft, canton flannel which preserves the 
tube. 

Examine your flaps. Replace every 
damaged flap with a new D-D. You 
can get them at any garage or service 
station. 


Dexter Rubber Mfg. Co. 
© 1926 Goshen, N. Y. 


Tire <> Flaps 


Rim Flaps Repair Kits 
Hole Pluggers Cord Patches 


We make a special D-D flap 
for Balloon Tireson Fords 


r 

Dexter Rubber Mfg. Co 

Please send free booklet 
10,000 Miles.” 


Goshen, N. Y 
“The Second 
Name 

Street 


City State 








——=Send the coupon——— 




















EN like style in their hosiery 
just as much as their wives and 
sweethearts do. But beauty is 

just half enough. Men must have real 
Iron Clad strength besides. They want 
to wear and wear and wear their hose 
without the necessity of darning. 


So here is the very latest Iron Clad 
sock for them—woven of pure thread 
silk and rayon in beautiful two-color 
combinations. The smartest pattern of 
the season—sheer and silky to keep 
the foot and ankle cool and comfy, but 
stoutly woven to keep the holes away. 


14,000 stores are selling these Iron 
Clads with a rigid guarantee. Ask for 
style 511. if your dealer can’t supply 
you, mail us your remittance, and 
we'll send your socks to you direct. 
State size (9 to 12, 75¢ a pair) and 
color (Grey, French Tan, Poudre Blue, 
Tan Bark, and Navy). They are all 
pure silk and rayon two-color com- 
binations with mercerized top and 
heel and toe for extra strength. 


COOPER, WELLS & COMPANY 
212 Vine Street, St. Joseph, Mich. 








8 POWER %Q.85 POSTPAID 


For hunting, motoring, the races, ocean 
travel, bird and nature study, etc. 


SWIFT & eur, Inc. 


HENDE RSON BROTHERS 
es in America 


Boston, Mass. 


reed im porte 


| 
) 
| 
| 
| 934 Federal Street 














aif 
tinctive des _ nate pris 
Selling « fit pa Writ day 
Taiiien ree & earl ited St., ee. N.Y. 


A Large 


THE SATURDAY 


It was not answered. Mr. Cameron ar- 
rived and inserted himself neatly into the 
seat just after the curtain rose. 

“What luck!” said Mr. Cameron. 
Abbott gnawed his program. 

The play Tropic Doom had rounded out 
its first hundred nights on Broadway, and 
there seemed to be no way of stopping it 
from running a year. Under other names, 
it had already enjoyed long runs. It was 
all about a clean-limbed young American 
who gets thrown down by a girl in Cleve- 
land, Ohio, and goes to Africa and the devil 
in the order named. Its half sister, Jungle 
Lure, was playing across the street. Its 
first cousin, The Call of the Equator, was 
doing nicely a block away. There was a 
story, possibly apocryphal, that a play- 
going gentleman, a bit befogged by his din- 
ner, strayed out of Tropic Doom at the 
end of the first act and by mistake into 
Jungle Lure for the second act; then, still 
slightly insensitive, he roamed into The 
Call of the Equator for its third act. Next 
day he reported that he had seen a bully 
show. 

Earl Abbott watched the play with ab- 
sorbed eyes. He saw the young American, 
hale and hearty for all his broken heart, and 
very natty too in white duck riding breeches 
and a pith helmet, arrive at the rubber set- 
tlement of Banga-Tanga, just across the 
street from the Congo. The lad, who up to 
that point has led a highly moral life, is 
welcomed by an old trader, in a grizzled- 
and-tan make-up who, it turns out, is no 
booster for Banga-Tanga. 

“Take warnin’, lad,’’ the grizzled trader 
says. ‘‘ This ain’t no place for a clean white 
man. There’s the heat and the booze and 
the—women.” 

The young man flicks his new riding 
boots with his crop in a proud, disdainful 
way and gives a devil-may-care laugh. Lit- 
tle does he know. 

“Little do you know,” says the old 
trader. ‘‘See that sun up there?” He 
points to a stage hand perched out of sight 
in the flies. ‘‘Well, boy, that there sun is 
poisoned. It fries, melts, boils and broils 
the soul out of a white man. I’ve seen as 
fine young fellows as you waste and wilt 
away into trembling shadows inside of six 
months. The sun hits their bodies, then 
their characters. Liquor gets them. Then 
women. Yes, women, curse their black 
hides! They’re an evil lot, Edgerton, but 
particularly that girl Malooba. Look out 
for her, Edgerton. She is the spirit of the 
tropics. And it will git you, Edgerton, it 
will git you!” 

**Pooh!”’ says Edgerton. End of Act I. 

When the curtain goes up on a bamboo 
hut in the second act young Edgerton 
needs a shine, his ducks are spotty and he 
has let his whiskers grow. He’s been there 
only two months too. The calcium sun 
beats fiercely on him from the wings. He 
doesn’t look at all well. He helps himself 
to a tremendous swig from a square bottle. 
He is, as he tells the old trader, trying to 
forget it all. 

“Look out, lad. The tropics will git 
you,” warns the old trader, who then goes 
out to water the rubber trees. A lady en- 
ters dressed in a grass skirt and Number 3 
light-tan grease paint. She doesn’t speak 
very good English, but she makes herself 
clear. She says, ‘‘Me Malooba. Me lovem 
white boy. Damn nice.” 

This makes the audience laugh, but it 
turns out to be no laughing matter for 
young Edgerton. He begins to neglect his 
rubber trees. 

In the second act alone he empties six 
square bottles right before the horrified 
eyes of the audience. When he ought to be 
out taking exercise and attending to his 
rubber trees he is lying about in the bamboo 
hut, listening to Malooba play the Zulu 
zither. It is all very tragic. 

The third act finds him a mere shaking 
wraith, with haggard eyes. The tropics 
have done their dirty work. Of course, 

Malooba turns out to have a heart of gold, 
and she finally hides the square bottles, 
makes him shave and sees that he waters 
the rubber trees, and marries him; but 


Earl 


EVENING POST 


everybody in the audience knows that that 
was just thrown in to send them home ap- 
proximately happy. Earl Abbott knew it, 
anyhow. 

He was not even approximately happy as 
the curtain fell on a jungle night. Nor did 
it elevate his spirits to any marked extent 
to hear Mr. Cameron say, “ Driving up- 
town, Earl? How jolly!” 

“It’s a two-seated roadster,” said Earl. 

“Oh, I don’t mind. I can hold Polly on 
my lap,”’ said Mr. Cameron cheerfully. 

It was just as they were passing Fifty- 
seventh Street that Earl Abbott heard the 
pistol shot. He thought it was a pistol shot 
because his mind, at the moment, was full 
of pistols, cutlasses and large stout clubs. 
But it was not a pistol shot. It was only his 
left front tire. He wabbled to the curb, 
stopped. A drizzle of rain at that moment 
began to fall. 

“Tough luck,” said Harvey Cameron. 
‘Well, I’m not much good at tires. I think 
the most useful thing I can do is to take 
Polly home in a taxi. Hey, taxi!” 

Earl said nothing. Polly, he knew, was 
broad minded, but in her presence he did 
not want to say what he wanted tosay. She 
held out a small white-gloved hand to him. 

“Good night, Earl. I had such a good 
time. Thank you.” 

He shook her hand. 
he said. 

Next day Miss Polly Boyden received 
this note: 


“‘Good-by, Polly,” 


Dear Polly: When you get this I shall be on 
my way to Africa. My uncle has a trading 
station at Peelo. It is on the edge of the jungle 
near the equator and said to be quite hot. 

do not expect to come back. Please remember 


me as one who cannot forget you. arr, 


The little steamer bobbed and slipped its 
way along the palm-fringed tropical coast 
and at last poked its nose into the harbor of 
Peelo. On the deck stood a young man of 
liberal mold, incased in white ducks, riding 
boots, a pith helmet. With resigned eyes, 
Earl Abbott regarded Africa. He was sur- 
prised it did not look more sinister. But 
then that would all come later. 

The native who pounced on his bag on 
the pier was sinister enough in mien, but he 
would have been more so if he had not had 
a falsetto voice. 

““Catchem bag and takem Abbott office,” 
directed Earl Abbott, in his best African. 

“Very good, sir,” said the native. 

Earl stared at him. “‘Speakem Eeng- 
leesh?’’ he demanded. 

“Yes, sir,”’ said the native. “I gradu- 
ated from the missionary school at Mon- 
rovia, with honors. I’m to be your personal 
servant. My name is Everett Brooks.” 

“Oh!” said Earl Abbott. They had 
reached the end of the pier. A new auto- 
mobile of a very respectable make whirled 
down the village street and came to a halt. 
From it a young man hopped. He was 
spruce in white golf knickers and shirt. He 
held out a firm, coffee-brown hand to Earl. 

“How are you, Abbott? My name’s 
Throckmorton. Frightfully sorry I wasn’t 
waiting on the pier, but I thought I’d have 
time to shoot one more hole before the 
funny old tub docked.” 

“Glad to see you,” said Earl Abbott. 

“We'll skip round to the club,” said 
Throckmorton. ‘I took a room there for 
you. You'll want a bath and a cool drink, I 
expect, before you begin your African 
career.” 

“The club?” Earl asked. 

“Oh, it isn’t much. Dinky swimming 
pool. Tennis courts only so-so. Trickiest 
golf course in the world. Only three holes.” 

Earl Abbott noted that Throckmorton 
guided the car at a brisk pace through the 
narrow streets in a manner that did not be- 
speak sun-and-gin-frayed nerves. 

“Been out here long?” asked Earl. 

“No; only three years.” 

“Like it?” 

“The heat’s a bit of a bore at times, but 
the life’s great.” 

“How are the 

“Jolly lot.” 

Throckmorton halted the car before a 
comfortable-looking building with broad 


natives?’ 


August 14,1926 


verandas, where white men in snowy duck 
were sitting, laughing, talking, drinking. 

‘‘Here we are—the club,” said Throck- 
morton, introducing Earl Abbott. The 
club members were youngish, Ear! noted, 
and meticulously shaved. 

“You'll want a drink?” 
morton. 

“Thank you,” said Earl Abbott. At 
home he seldom drank. Bad for the figure; 
and, besides, he didn’t like the stuff much. 
But this was Africa—and forgetfulness. 

A very black boy in a very white suit ap- 
peared, grinning. 

“Two Club Specials, George,” ordered 
Throckmorton. Earl Abbott sank down 
into a bamboo chair. African life had 
begun. Presently George returned, bearing 
on a tray tall glasses, pink and frosted. 

**Here’s to the new African,”’ said Throck- 
morton, and they drank. ‘Like it?” 
Throckmorton asked. 

““Why—er—yes. Very smooth.” 

“I invented it,’’ said Throckmorton, a 
slightly proud smile coming to his rather 
earnest face. “Shaved ice, sugar—not too 
much, though—a lemon, a lime and a dash 
of grenadine. A good warm-weather drink.” 

“Yes,” agreed Earl Abbott, “I can 
hardly taste the gin.” 

Throckmorton peered at him. “Gin?” 
he said. ‘‘ But, my dear fellow, there’s no 
gin in it. This is Peelo, remember. We're 
dry here.” 

“What?” 

“Have to be,” said Throckmorton. 
“Booze and business don’t mix in the 
tropics any more than they do anywhere 
else. Less so, in fact. We’ve found that out. 
So there’s practically no drinking done 
here. For one thing, the natives wouldn’t 
stand for it.” 

“Why?” 

‘Against their religion.” 

“What religion?” 

“‘They’re all Christians,” said Throck- 
morton. ‘‘ Your man, Everett Brooks, is an 
elder in the church.” 

Earl Abbott thoughtfully sipped his 
drink. ‘I’m awfully green here,”’ he said. 
“T’d appreciate it if you’d tell me about 
things.” 

“Well,” said Throckmorton briskly, “‘if 
you want to get ahead here, it’s just like 
New York. You have to work hard. The 
hours are different, that’s all. We get up at 
dawn, work till eleven. Siesta till four. 
Then work and possibly some tennis or golf. 
Bridge in the evenings. Good small 
libraries connected with all three churches. 
Y. M. C. A., with bowling alleys. I teach 
business English there every Friday eve- 
ning. By the way, are you inter- 
ested in scouting?” 

“T don’t know much about the jungle 
and big game,” said Earl Abbott. 

“Oh, you don’t have to know about 
them,” said Throckmorton. ‘‘ You have to 
know how to tie knots and wigwag.” 

“Wigwag?”’ 

“Sure.” Throckmorton stood up and 
waved his arms. 

“Are you talking about Boy Scouts? 
asked Earl Abbott. 

“Of course. Nearly all us fellows have 
troops, and there’s keen rivalry between us. 
The native kids take to it naturally. It’s 
great sport.” 

““Do you mean that I’ll have to put on 
little khaki pants and wigwag?’’ asked 
Earl. 

“You'll enjoy it,’’ said Throckmorton. 
“Well, I suppose you'll want to go up to 
your room now. Don’t forget that we all 
have a get-together luncheon every Wed- 
nesday at the club.” 

Earl Abbott pulled himself together. 
“Throckmorton, arethereany —er—women 
he re? > ig 

**About a dozen of the fellows are mar- 
ried,” said Throckmorton. ‘“‘There’s a 
dance every other Saturday. We have 
amateur dramatics too. Last year we gave 
quite a decent performance of She Stoops to 
Conquer.” 

Earl Abbott lowered his voice. 
the native women?”’ he asked. 

(Continued on Page 137 


asked Throck- 


9” 


“And 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 







The Coca-Cola Company, Atlanta, Ga. 


THROUGH ALL THE YEARS 
SINCE 1886 


And still the delight of 
those who first enjoyed its 
purity and wholesomeness 





IT HAD TO BE GOOD TO GET WHERE IT IS ~ 7 MILLION A DAY 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


« 


ae So Ree Re ae WAS te tae <oms a eae ede ; a stig take 9 yaa oi 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





Irst Public Announcement of 


the “Simmons Fellowship” on Sleep 
at 


MELLON 


How much sleep do you need? What 
effect has sleep on health, vitality, long 
life? What penalty must you pay if 
you fail to get the proper rest? What 
causes sleep? Can you sleep faster or 
better? 


NO ONE HAS ANSWERED. 

It seems incredible that so little is 
known generally about one of life’s 
greatest necessities. Yet it 1s so. 
‘Today, a staff of experts in the most 
modern industrial experimental station 
in the world are searching deeply into 
sleep, its causes and effects. 


Realizing the importance of sleep to 
mankind, the Simmons Company be- 
gan to throw what light it could on 
the subject more than ten years ago. 
But the available facts were inade- 
quate. More must be known. 

Two years ago, apart from any mer- 
cenary motive, the Company endowed 
a fellowship at Mellon Institute in 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where one 


THE SIMMONS COMPANY: NEW YORK 


‘CHICAGO :-SAN FRANCISCO 





INSTITUTE 


hundred and fifty scientists are inves- 
tigating the problems of industry, in 
order to minister in the highest degree 
to the progress of mankind. 


Keen is the interest aroused by the in- 
vestigation, enlisting the co-operation 
of scientific men whose work carried 
them along allied lines. Greatly signifi- 
cant are the findings to date, though 
there has been no public announce- 
ment before now. 


No half truths can be tolerated. Pseu- 
do-scientific investigation must be 
banned as more harmful than helpful. 
Known facts and mature judgment 
must guide every step in this great 
work. 


For what has been accomplished, the 
Company is grateful to the men who 
have so ably co-operated. Already it 
has been proved that this work will con- 
tribute to the great benefit of all people. 
Still greater things are to be expected. 
Watch for further announcements. 


‘ATLANTA 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


The Permanently WHITE 


Glistening, brilliantly white homes—white because their 
paint is white— 


WHITE 
MAGIC 


White because the white paint will stay white, in spite 
of wind and weather, as it fills its mission of protection 
and beauty. 

That’s what 40-40-20 can achieve for you—a bril- 
liantly white home that stays brilliantly white as long as 
good paint can last. 

40-40-20 is a durable, long-wearing outside house paint 
developed by The New Jersey Zinc Company through modern 
methods of scientific research and investigation. 40-40-20 
is made of scientifically combined materials—materials re- 
flecting the scientific progress of the age we live in—materials 
which cannot be surpassed for perfect paint whiteness and 
durability. It defies the conventional belief that white paint 
cannot stay white. 

40-40-20 is made by a constantly increasing number 
of reputable paint companies whose endorsement alone is 
impressive. These manufacturers are authorized by The New 


Ti b e 


N1 Alle INTEGRITY PAINT CO. 
INTERSTATE CHEMICAL CO 
JOHNSON McKIM JOHNSON CO 
OLIVER JOHNSON & CO.,INC 
FRANK M. KENNEDY PAINT & COLOR C\ 
KNOX VARNISH CO 
F. KURFEES PAINT CO.,INC 
LONGMAN AND MARTINEZ 
rHE LORAIN LEAD & PAINT CO 
MACMILLAN PAINT CO 
PFHE MAHONING PAINT & OIL CO 
PHE MARIETTA PAINT & COLOR C¢ 
HN W. MASURY & SON 
M MERKIN PAINT CO., ING 
MICHIGAN PAINT MFG.CO 
PHE NATROCO PAINT & VARNISH WORK 
NEGLEY & CO 
FOLK PAINT & VARNISH ¢ 
AKLEY PAINT MFG. CO 
THE PARR PAINT AND COLOR ¢ 
PEASLEE-GAULBERT CO., ING 
i y ‘\ THE PERRY & DERRICK CO., ING 
Y PAINT 0 ati, ¢ H. PETERMAN, INC 
ER PAINT CO PETRO PAINT MFG. CO 
EL H. FRENCH & ¢ PHELAN-FAUST PAINT MFG. CO 
INE BROS re, PHOENIX PAINT & VARNISH CO 
ARNISH ¢ rooklyn, P. & A. PAINT WORKS, INC 
RASMUSSEN & CO 
RED SPOT PAINT & VARNISH CO., ING 
THE ROBERTSON PAINT & VARNISH CO 


New Haven, SAMPS 
rsey City, ] vescnppdinarat lect Indinapelio, ind 


August 14,1926 


Outside Paint 


Jersey Zinc Company to use its registered trade mark 
40-40-20 on paint made from its specified products accord- 
ing to its specially developed formula. They prepare it in 
ready-to-use form in many beautiful tints as well as in white, 
or in paste form for the professional painter’s use. 

The manufacturers whose names appear on this list 
have dealers all over the country who can supply you with 
genuine 40-40-20. Ask your own paint 
dealer about it and send for the booklet 
“When White is White.” It tells the com- 
plete story of this remarkable paint. 


The New Jersey Zinc Company 


Established 1848 
Products Distributed by 


The New Jersey Zinc Sales Company 
160 Front Street, New York City 


CHICAGO + PITTSBURGH + CLEVELAND + SAN FRANCISCO 


grow ing bist of authorized manufacturers of 40- 40-20 


ON PAINT & ¢ NC Richmond, Va 


SEATTLE PAINT CO . Seattle, Wash 
SOVEREIGN PAINT MFG. CO., ING tlantic City, N 
PHE GILBERT SPRUANCE CO 
ST. PAUL WHITE LEAD & OI! 
STERLING PAINT CO 

FHE STEWART BROS. PAINT CO 
PIBBETTS-WESTERFIELD PAINT CC 

PROPICAL PAINT & OIL Ct 
U.S. GUTTA PERCHA PAINT CO 
UTLEY PAINT ¢ ING 
WARREN PAINT & 
CHARLES E. WA 
WEST PAINT ¢ 
WESTERN PAIN 

PHrE WHITE ¢ 

C. WHITLAM } 
WILLIAMS PAIN 

HN H. WITTE ? 
D. ZELINSKY 


IN CANADA 


BRANDRAM-HENDERSON, LTD 

THE IMPERIAL VARNISH AND COLOR CO,,I Toronto 
INTERNATIONAL LABORATORIES, LTD Winnipeg 
OTTAWA PAINT WORKS, LTD Ottawa 
A. RAMSAY & SON CO Montreal 
SANDERSON PEARCY & CO.,LTD West Toronto, Ont. 

















(Continued from Page 132) 

“Jolly lot,” said Throckmorton. “Very 
obliging. But look out for Nyooma.” 

““Nyooma?”’ Earl Abbott repeated the 
name. “‘Nyooma? Who is she?” 

“*She’s generally regarded in native cir- 
cles as the belle of the village and a fine type 
of jungle beauty,”’ Throckmorton told him. 
““You’ll meet her soon enough. But look 
out for her.” 

In his room in the club, which was im- 
maculate to the point of being antiseptic, 
Earl Abbott began slowly to unpack. With 
an effort, he pushed away from his mind a 
vision—a vision of a slender girl with 
golden-blond hair—in short, Polly Boyden. 
He shut his eyes, as if to shut out the sight 
of Polly, and in the dusk of a jungle evening 
that had stolen softly into the room he 
breathed the name “‘ Nyooma.” 

He was standing knee-deep in soiled 
shirts and pajamas, when he heard on his 
door a faint knock—a low, insinuating tap- 
ping. 

““Who’s there?”’ he called, and there was 
something about the knock that made him 
keep his voice down. The reply was in a 
voice like the knock, low but significant: 
““Nyooma.” 

For fully four seconds Earl Abbott stood 
there wavering, his arms full of used union 
suits. Then, with a decisive gesture, he 
dashed the union suits to the floor. He 
faced the door. He had heard the lure of 
the jungle. Africa had spoken to him. 

“Come in,”’ he said in a hoarse whisper. 

Nyooma came in. Her purple silk dress 
fitted her tightly—so tightly, indeed, that 
her round arms had burst through. She 
was wearing a pair of white shoes which had 
not always been hers, for their toes turned 
up. She was smiling, a wide, unabashed 


THE SATURDAY 


smile. She was not tall — hardly five feet in 
fact. That was the first thing that struck 
Earl Abbott. The second was that, con- 
servatively speaking, she was just as wide 
as she was tall. 

Expert at such things, he placed her 
weight at two-twenty. Her other attributes 
were a smudge of a nose, frizzly hair and a 
complexion like an undertaker’s hat. Then 
she spoke. 

“Laundry?” said Nyooma. 

Brokenly, Earl waved at the pile of pa- 
jamas and shirts. ‘“‘Take ’em,” he said. 
Nyooma puffed as she picked them up. 

“Where do you come from, sir?’’ she 
asked. 

“New York.” 

“Do you know Mary Pickford?” 

“No.” 

“Could you get me a job acting in the 
movies?” 

“T’ll try.” 


9” 


Throckmorton stopped in to take Earl 
down to dinner. Earl Abbott looked at him 
sternly. 

“Why did you warn me against Ny- 
ooma?”’ he asked. 

“She’s so careless with socks,” said 
Throckmorton. ‘She's lost a dozen of my 
best. Be sure always to check up on her.”’ 

Earl Abbott ate a tremendous dinner 
that night. Nothing was barred. Some- 
how, nothing seemed to matter any more. 


The Pelican Troop of Boy Scouts was re- 
turning from a hike. Their black faces 
covered with dust and pride, the Scouts 
marched behind their leader, who fitted 
snugly into his short khaki pants. As they 
swung down Main Street, Peelo, the Scouts 
were startled to see their leader suddenly 








EVENING POST 





break into a run. He headed for the pier. 
They followed dutifully. On the pier a girl 
in white was watching the natives take her 
trunk off a yacht’s tender. 

“Polly! Polly!” 

She turned. ‘Oh, Earl!” 

“In heaven’s name, where did you come 
from?” 

“Your uncle and aunt were coming past 
here on their yacht. I made them bring me.” 
“But, Polly, this is no place for you.” 

“Then it’s no place for you. Oh, I’ve 
been so scared —and yet you look all right.” 

“Polly,” said Earl, “I never felt better 
in my life. And I might as well tell you, 
right here and now, that I weigh two hun- 
dred and one pounds--a net gain of four 
pounds in the five months I've been here.”’ 

“I’m so glad.” 

“But, Polly, why should you come way 
out here away from New York 3 

She smiled and turned her head away. 
“You know what I said about liking ag- 
gressive men?” 

~ 

**Well,”’ said Polly, “I still like them, so 
I thought I’d come here and give you a 
chance to be aggressive.” 

“Polly! You don’t mean 
you'll marry me?” 

“Of course.” 

Scout Master Abbott called an order to 
his troop: 

“Pelican Troop, go round the corner, 
double quick, and wigwag!”’ 

“What corner, sir?”’ 

“Any corner.” 

Then, when the Scouts had vanished, 
Earl Abbott took Polly in his arms. 

“Oh, Polly, darling, why didn’t you say 
that before?”’ he said. 

“You never asked me.” 


do you mean 


THE JUNK SNUPPER 


“Tt would be interesting,’’ observed the 
man from Boston, ‘‘to determine the com- 
posite complex or the psychoanalysis of the 
collector-mind—the motivation.” 

“*T suppose so,’’ says Mr. Lovell; ‘“‘but 
sometimes there ain’t no motivation. When 
Whistler, in the early 90’s, did up his 
dining room with plate rails crowded with 
old blue china against a background of 
yellow butcher paper, he started a purely 
decorative fad, and as a decorative fad it 
led to the use of a great deal of old Stafford- 
shire. It wasn’t a collector fad; it just 
grew to it; and it is interesting to note that 
the New York Herald of March 3, 1895, 
called attention to the fact that there was a 
craze for old Staffordshire and that good 
plates and platters were selling as high as 
five dollars and ten dollars each. And thirty 
years afterward these same plates were sell- 
ing all the way up to $500 each, some par- 
ticularly rare ones, as you know, going up 
to $1400.” 

The gallant old frigate, the Constitution, 
has been always the storm center of history. 
Of late we’ve been holding some very peace- 
able rallies to raise $500,000 for recondition- 
ing the battle-scarred veteran, which, by 
the way, back in 1797, cost $299,366 to 
build. 

In 1833 there was another kind of raliy 
a rally to protest against placing the figure- 
head of Jackson upon the bow of the ship 
and it kicked up an awful rumpus, second 
only to the famous tea party. 

It was started by a broadside distributed 
from hand to hand around Boston. 


FREEMEN, AWAKE! 

OR THE CONSTITUTION WILL SINK! 

It is a fact that the old “Glory Presi- 
dent’’ has issued his special orders for a 
colossus figure of his ROYAL SELF in 
Roman Costume to be placed as the figure- 
head of ‘‘Old Ironsides.”’ 

Where is The Spirit of ’76, where the 
brave Tars who fought and conquered in 
the glorious ship, where the mechanics and 
where the Bostonians who have gloried in 
her achievements? 


(Continued from Page 19) 


Will they see the figure of a landlubber 
at their bows? 

Let the figurehead, if mortal man be 
worthy, be that of the brave Hull, the im- 
mortal Decatur or the valiant Porter, and 
not that of a tyrant! 

North-enders, shall this Boston ship be 
thus disgraced without remonstrance, and 
let this wooden god, which is being built at 
an expense of $300 of the people’s money, 
be placed on its bow? 

For God’s sake awake and save the ship 
from this foul disgrace! 


There were precedents, of course, for 
landlubbers’ figureheads on a ship. The 
figurehead of Captain John Smith was 
placed on the bow of the Potomac, and 
Walter Raleigh’s on the North Carolina, so 
this objection was hardiy logical. 

However, the rest of the story is known 
how the Jackson figurehead went up in 
spite of protests and how one night the head 
was chopped off by an anti-Jackson faction 
and disappeared; and here comes the 
mystery. 

Jarvis, in recording the transaction in a 
pamphlet published in 1835, says that the 
head, following the decapitation, was 
brought into one of Boston’s coffee houses, 
placed on a table and chopped into forty- 
four pieces, one piece each to participants 
in the outrage. On the other hand, it is a 
fact that the mutilated figurehead was 
preserved and sold finally to a New York 
collector of figureheads and ship models, 
who denies the Jarvis history and declares 
that he has found the head and can trace 
its various meanderings since 1833, and 
can prove it genuine. So here’s a problem 
for the experts. 

I believe in experts. I believe in doctors 
and lawyers, but after all they are not in- 
fallible. 

Recently one of the best known experts 
in America brought suit for the recovery 
of $500 paid for four Duncan Phyfe 
chairs. 

I don’t know, but assume that he ex- 
amined them before paying for them. He 





must have believed at that time that they 
were genuine. He must have reversed 
his opinion later, and there’s nothing to 
criticize in that. A lower court is fre- 
quently reversed by a court above, and 
this court, in turn, is reversed by a court 
still higher. 

It’s an old aphorism that ‘‘a wise man 
changes his opinion, but a fool never.’’ But 
I cannot avoid reflecting that if an expert 
gets stung now and then, what chance has 
the amateur? 

It’s a far cry from collecting chairs to 
collecting buildings. 

P. T. Barnum once made a bid for the 
home of Shakspere at Stratford-on-Avon, 
with a view to moving it to America; the 
proposition was regarded by the English as 
an absurdity. But conditions have changed 
and so many old English show places have 
recently been sold to Americans that Sir 
Henry Slesser has introduced a bill in Par- 
liament prohibiting any further removals. 

This step was actuated by the announce- 
ment that the old Essex home of Christo- 
pher Martin, who is said to have fitted out 
the Mayflower, was to be taken down, stone 
by stone, and reérected in the United States. 

It was here in the Martin house, ac- 
cording to the English agents, that the 
Pilgrim Fathers assembled and laid their 
plans; and if these facts can be authen- 
ticated it would seem as though the Amer- 
ican who would buy this property would 
acquire a substantial piece of early Amer- 
ican history. 

With the burdensome taxes on the Eng- 
lish people many estates have been broken 
up of late and dispersed, and it is only 
natural that some of the old historic places 
which were kept by sentiment are now, 
through new ownership, being displaced by 
more practical and more comfortable dwell- 
ings, and that the house wrecker is salvag- 
ing the wood trims and shipping them to 
this country. 

Some enterprising decorator bought the 
globe room of the ancient Reindeer Inn at 
Banbury. The old oak paneling of the 
Moat Hall at Shrewsbury decorates an 





137 


MERTON 


CAPS and 
KNICKERS fo match 





The KENT CAP 
American sportsmen have worn Merton 
Caps for years. Tailored from fine 
tweeds, cheviots and linens they pro- 
vide with knickers to match the correct 
ensemble for sportswear. The new KENT 
cap shown above of soft tweed $4.00. 


Knickers to match Caps, any length $15. 


At the better dealers or write us direct. 


CHARLES ,S: MERTON + &-CO 


me RTOR 


210 FIFTH AVE NEW YORK 








> 





; ZY, , i} 
the \ 2 || 
School \ 


ae a4 


The Way 
to Success 


| Hundreds of thousands of young 
people are just now trying to 
decide what field of effort and 
what type of education will give 
them the best chance at success 











| Modern business, that marvelous pro 
| fession, today offers more to ambitious, 
i] energetic, forward-iooking men and 
| women than does any other calling 
Preparation for business life may be |! 
made easily, quickly, and cheaply I 
1 
iT 
| 


in the private business school. Every 
intending student should select his 
school with a copy of our free Book 
“A”, “The Sure Way to Success,” | 
and a list of Accredited Schools before 1] 
him. Write for them today | 





National Association | | 


Accredited Commercial Schools l 

L 1618 Mallers Building, Chicago 23) 

YX nna aa 
—/ 





























The Best Dollar You Ever Spent 


A semi-annual application of 
NO-BLUR en your windshield will 
enable you to enjoy the safety and 
convenience of clear vision through 
8 the ENTIRE windshield cach time 
7 it rains invisible after being 
applied will not wear or wash off 
A quality product that is being wel 
comed by motorists everywhere 
Regular 2-oz. size sufficient to last 
life of your car. Price $1.00 at your 
dealers or sent postpaid direct. Re 
sults guaranteed 


STANDARD SALES CO., Dept. S 


Memphis, Tenn. 











138 


That Hole in the Casing | 
Shortens Tire Life! 


It is the cause of most blow-outs, loss of mileage 
and takes the pleasure away from motoring. Now 
"ou can prevent this waste of time and money with 
a : simple but effective treatment of tire wounds the 
Wedtord-Kex way! 
Ask your repairman to plug nail holes and fabric 
breaks with Wedford-Kex Vulcanized Rubber 
Puncture Plugs. Wedford-Kex is not rubber putty, 
soft rubber or flowing gum, but actually a vulcan- 
ed plug with real wear resistance. These plugs 
idd thousands of miles to your tires by keeping out 
sand, water, mud and gravel, which rots casings 
and pinches tubes 
The better tire repair shops use and recommend 
them. Large fleet owners usé them to lower mainte- 


nance service cost. 
Ba 
INSERTED’ 


'N CASING 


WEDFORD-KEX 
Vulcanized Rubber 
PUNCTURE PLUGS 


PAT. JAN. 19, 1926; REG. U. 8. PAT. OFF. 


Get a Wedford-Kex Handy Tire Users’ Repair Kit 
for emergency use—it’s the only outfit which in- 
cludes vulcanized rubber plugs of assorted sizes and 
tapered needle, in addition to the usual inner tube 
patching and rubber cement, so that the puncture 
in the outer casing, as well as the inner tube, can 
be repaired completely! At leading accessory stores, 
tire repair shops, garages and filling stations. Price 
only $1.00. Equip yourself today! 
'f your dealer's stock is depleted, send us his name 
and $1.00 and we will send you a Kit prepaid. 
Ask your dealer to show you Wedford Evr-Klean 
Seat Pads; Steering Wheel Tires; “Airtites” Valve 
Cores and Caps; the New Wedford Air-Spring 
Cushion and other practical Wedford Prodwts 


Wedler-Shuford Company 
St. Louis, U.S. A. 


Permanent Merchandise Exhibit: 
Automotive Equipment Mart 
1315 S. Michigan Avenue, Chicago 





MADE from the 
world’s finest 
mustard seeds— 
mixed in spot- 
less factories. 
Spread it on all 
meats—and mix 
in gravies. 


GULD ENS 
MUSTARD 


Ready to use 


GULDEN'S 


a 








aes re are bows and arrows you will hear 
from in the National Archery Tourna- 
ment at the Sesqui-Centennial All 
vat could be wished for”, says a cham- 
5 supplied $0 pur sduent 0 nds with this 
in cam and week end trips, 


5 on te 
y ‘ there te ax spe wt 80 satist ying to 


ily a 
Men's English Yeoman set; 4 
6 tor 
oman set (for older boys and 
nwood bow, J fine target 
arrows and arm gua 


man set; S° lemon 


ex, weight, height. 
» prepaid, on 


(formerly New Orleans) 








STUDY AT HOME. Becomealaw- 
yer. Be independent Barn $6,000t0 
$10,000 annually. We guide you step 

by step—furnish all te vx material in- 

ne Law Library 

red. Low cost 

val — 108-page 

“Law Guide” and "Evidenc r nd for them 
NOW. LaBalle Extension University Dept. 871. L, Chi- 
ago. The World's Largest Business Training Institution 








THE SATURDAY 


| American home. The Warwick Priory is 
another American purchase, so also Age- 


| croft Hall of Salford, one of the oldest 


houses in Great Britain, built about the 
twelfth century; and now it is rumored 
that two other famous buildings have been 
bought, the doors and paneling destined for 
this country. 

And why not? We want the wreckage 
and they want the money. But look out 
how you buy that sort of thing on faith; for 
all that’s decrepit is not antique. 

In dear old London they are making 
decrepitude while you wait—wood paneling 
a specialty. They go so far as to cover the 
new panels with two or three coats of 
different paint, scraping them here and 
there, denting the wood, or puncturing it 
with old nail marks or peg marks, and 
rotting the ends of the lumber with chemi- 
cals. 

It’s an old story, although there is more 
of it done now than there ever was before. 

But they don’t fool Uncle Sam. 

Tons, of counterfeit stuff are being 
stopped at the United States Appraisers’ 
Stores every year. 

A man in the Customs employ showed 
me a stack of invoices a foot high, all for 
antiques, and all crooked. If they simply 
represented tourist purchases, we would as- 
sume that the tourist was stuck and let it 
go at that. The tourist is so gullible; he is 
on a holiday and has the money to spend; 
and he is so impressed by the antiquity of 
the country and its old methods that he is 
easily duped. But hold, fully half of these 
invoices were not for tourist goods but 
goods billed to dealers. What’s the con- 
clusion? 

Either these dealers are dishonest and in 
collusion with the seller, or they themselves 
have been deceived, and if deceived, they 
are not the experts they are supposed to be. 

It isn’t surprising. You can’t expect 
efficiency from some of the fellows who have 
crept into the antique business of late years. 

In the customhouse the glass examiner 


| has put his entire life into the subject. 
| That's all he is supposed to know—glass. 


The furniture expert knows furniture and 
nothing else; so with the fabric man and 
other lines. 

And they know that Belgium and France 
are reproducing the old tapestry bell pulls, 
that Spain is sending over glassware— 
bottles and tumblers—liquor-stained and 
grimy with dirt; but all signs of age dis- 
appear after two minutes under the faucet. 

At an auction sale recently, a lot of 
pewter was grabbed by the trade, but I 
happened to know the goods came straight 
from Birmingham. 


C.0.D., Not P. B.C. 


Reproduction stuff is legitimate so long 
as handled legitimately; but when handled 


| by the ignorant or unscrupulous it tends to 
| the discrediting of all dealers and a general 


public prejudice against the whole subject 
of antiques. Sol am glad to see that during 
the past few months the Antique and Deco- 


| rative Arts League has been organized with 


the object of correcting abuses and estab- 
lishing a higher code of ethics among dealers. 

It is a common thing for the seller abroad 
to furnish the buyer a duplicate invoice for 
the American customs examiner, this in- 
voice showing a much lower cost, and thus 
effecting a saving in duties. Crooked in- 
voices of this character have been so com- 
mon that the Government has been obliged 
to open headquarters in London and Paris 
for agents who cover all Europe, investi- 
gating values and shady practices, and 
card-indexing the firms guilty of that sort 
of thing. 

A good deal of this deception would be 
avoided if tourist buyers or trade buyers 
would purchase their antiques subject to 


| payment when the goods are passed by the 


Customs. But no, the stuff is always sold 
C. O. D., not P. B. C. 
And then there’s the auctioneer abroad. 


| I saw a Rembrandt at a famous auction 


gallery in London sold for $100—at any 


| rate it was catalogued as a Rembrandt. 


EVENING POST 


That’s a sample of what you're up against. 
You’re supposed to know. 

In Paris most of the public sales are held 
at the Hétel des Ventes Mobiliéres, more 
generally known as the Hotel Drouot. It’s 
a motley crowd that assembles here, but 
fascinating to the collector. 

Then of a lower degree, though none the 
less interesting, is the Flea Market. Of a 
Sunday a couple of hundred venders of 
anything and everything from an auto- 
mobile to a watch spring meet here and 
offer their plunder. The market place covers 
about four acres, thickly packed with push- 
carts upon which these wares are shown. 
Everybody in the junk business or second- 
hand business utilizes this Sunday oppor- 
tunity to display his collections, and the 
place is crowded; especially by folks who 
haven’t any regular antique shop, but who 
think they have something that somebody 
would want. The poor come for discarded 
raiment, the rich for illusive treasure. But 
I have said it before, and I reiterate—old 
books, old manuscripts, old fabrics, old 
anything, mean little in themselves. You 
can buy Greek and Roman coins of 2000 
years ago for twenty-five cents apiece. It 
is scarcity, sentiment and historic interest 
that make for value. And because of this 
interest the old American lard-oil lamp of 
1720, out of a New England farm, is worth 
more money in America than the ancient 
clay burner of far Phenicia, and the old 
double-faced coverlets of our Colonial 
forbears have a greater appeal for technic 
and for beauty than the grimed and ragged 
stuffs of the Old World. 


A Find in Phyfe 


Thoreau says the value of a thing is de- 
termined by the amount of life you put into 
it. A year of a woman’s life went into the 
making of some of these coverlets and you 
can tell the nationality or ancestry by the 
patterns that were used. The women from 
Holland, Switzerland, France, England, 
Scotland and Ireland, long before the days 
of power weaving, brought to America their 
own drafts of patterns, and these drafts 
were inherited and handéd down from one 
generation to another. Thus, one family 
might have drafts of two or three patterns, 
no more, and there was great excitement in 
the village when a professional weaver—an 
itinerant craftsman—arrived to teach the 
gentry a new pattern. 

And now the patchwork quilt is coming 
in. Up to last winter there was no demand 
for it. Of course this doesn’t mean that all 
patchwork quilts are desirable; some of 
them are poorly made and wretchedly 
colored, but those that are really artistic 
are bringing high prices; and don’t confuse 
the patchwork quilt with the appliquéd 
quilts. Some beautiful designs were made 
in appliqués, but they’re not patchwork. 

And look out for good examples in the 
despised Empire period of furniture. Deal- 
ers ignore that period, but in another 
decade, when all the older things are picked 
up and gone, they’ll be glad to get them 

Thirty years ago there was the same in- 
difference for Duncan Phyfe furniture. 
People didn’t appreciate it. It was not old 
enough. It didn’t go quite far enough back 
in memory lane to quicken the heartbeat. 
In 1905 a Duncan Phyfe sofa sold in Phila- 
delphia for fifteen dollars. Last month the 
same sofa sold at a Park Avenue auction 
house for $2600. 

A few years ago an old lady from upstate 
called on a dealer in New York and said she 
had a lot of stamps, some going back to the 
first City Dispatch stamp of 1842. Some 
of them were on the original envelopes, and 
she had an idea that they were very valu- 
able, because somebody had told her that 
an Alexandria stamp in blue was worth 
$10,000 and that Philip Ward, of Phila- 
delphia, paid $3600 for a thirty-cent red- 
orange stamp of 1861. But the dealer 
wasn’t much interested until he happened 
to notice in one of the envelopes a bill from 
Duncan Phyfe to the grandfather of the 
present generation of the family; and say, 
it was the thrill of his life! And, as the 


August 14,1926 


lady observed that she had more of them at 
home, he said he’d go out there some day 
and go through the collection. 

That’s what he wanted—to get into her 
house and snup around. And sure enough, 
she had four or five fine old Duncan Phyfe 
pieces, and cared nothing for them, and was 
glad to get rid of them; there were so many 
other things she’d rather have. He bought 
them all. He might have hunted for years 
and never run up against such a find. He 
paid $500 for the City Dispatch stamp, 
with envelope and bill inclosed; for they 
authenticated and further increased the 
value of the furniture. And then folks say 
there’s no luck in business. 

Not long ago there was a sale of the 
family heirlooms of John J. Miller, of 
Southampton, Long Island. The genealogy 
of the family runs back to 1640, and to the 
Bleeckers, the Duanes, the Livingstons and 
the Rutgerses after whom thestreets of New 
York were named at the time when it was 
in truth little old New York. In the col- 
lection there was a lot of miniature furni- 
ture—a serpentine desk, for example, a 
replica of the old Hancock desk, made abso- 
lutely to scale, and only twelve inches high. 

More of this miniature cabinetwork was 
shown at the Nolen Sale,at the Temple Sale; 
and recently, at the Colony Club in New 
York,therewasan exhibition of small pieces, 
all contributed by members of the club. 

The origin of these diminutive pieces is 
little understood. Contrary to the general 
impression, they were not made for chil- 
dren. In the old days they were made by 
apprentices to demonstrate their skill, be- 
fore ever they were given their master’s 
papers. These apprentices had to do small 
pieces before they were allowed to spoil 
good lumber on regular work. Then again, 
they were often made as models to work 
from, even to take orders from. 


Why the Craze for Americana? 


What does all this craze for Americana 
mean? It isasymptom of national awaken- 
ing. We have come to realize that this 
great country is a land no longer of promise, 
but of achievement. No longer has Europe 
anything to give us but a pleasant trip over 
and a pleasanter trip back. We have taken 
her best. And in all things, excepting ruins 
and ancient history, we have surpassed her. 

Our men are paid better, our women are 
dressed better, our children are housed bet- 
ter, and we have begun to realize this, and 
to think in gratitude of the pioneer folk who 
blazed the trail to our great achievement, 
and we are hoarding and cherishing the re- 
minders of their lives—-old daguerreotypes, 
old bell pulls, rag dolls, rag rugs, furniture, 
glassware, even old wall paper—and now 
we have restored and reanimated and re- 
moved them to a new life and modern en- 
vironment, remote from the age of their 
origin. I sometimes wonder what they 
think of their rehabilitation. 

There used to be a little red schoolhouse 
up at Sterling, Massachusetts, and accord- 
ing to the reliable records of the First 
Reader, Mary Sawyer went to school there, 
and Mary’s little lamb attended also, much 
to the consternation of the teacher. 

No one knows what the people want any 
better than Henry Ford, and Mr. Ford has 
taken time off, away from his multitudi- 
nous interests, to locate the place where the 
little red schoolhouse stood, and has bought 
the foundation stones and is going to recon- 
struct the house. 

To be sure, there is somewhere the 
habitat of this or that revered and illus- 
trious Pilgrim; but Mr. Ford, with his 
uncanny appreciation of what the people 
want, is doubtless pleasing a much larger 
audience in perpetuating the memory of 
Mary and her lamb. 

“‘Well, in any event,”’ says Mr. Lovell, 
“he’s staying at home and not getting the 
British Parliament all het up over her dis- 
appearing ruins. Uncle Henry can do about 
anything, and, who knows, he may yet dis- 
cover the cupboard belonging to the lady 
who made loose wrappers popular, likewise 
the house that Jack built.” 


” 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 








Give a gift that Says “Bon Voyage’ 


for all of Lifes cruise 


ES, it is easy to discharge a gift obligation lightly 

and often quickly. . . But the fairest 

flowers wilt, and the best books are soon discarded, 
and the most tempting candies and fruits are all too 


quickly gone. 

Far wiser is he who chooses gifts more 
lasting, gifts that daily brighten the lonely 
hours of the traveler in foreign lands, gifts 
that ever revive fond memories in the hearts 
of those both far away and close at hand. 

Your jeweler specializes in gifts of this 
sort. Gifts constant and imperishable, like 
the good-will they betoken; gifts useful and 
practical, like the true friendship they sym- 
bolize . . . giftsthatserve . . . gifts that 
last as does the affection that prompts them. 

If your wish is for a gift particularly 
appropriate for the traveler, your jeweler 





can show you diaries, passport cases, bill folds and 
stationery portfolios in the finest of leather, silver 


Or those other expressions of the true and loyal 


heart—signet rings, gold and silver pen 
knives, pendants and bracelets, or that 
most reliable of all traveling companions 
an Elgin watch. 

So, if you would say “Bon Voyage” for 
all of life’s cruise, say it with a sincerity 
that will echo down through the corridor 
of the years—say it with gifts from your 
jeweler’s precious store . . . with “gifts 
that last.” 


ELGIN 


THE WATCH 








Send for the TINY TREASURE BOOK, a delightful little brochure of Gift Facts a 











And when he undertook to stow the hay 
away in the mow, the result was chaos; be- 
fore they were done there was hay on the 
barn floor, hay in the tie-up and hay on 
the wire top of the chicken pen. Cindy 
herself was exhausted by her efforts to right 
the mischief that he did, and her impatience 
with him at last boiled over. 

She said, stammering with her own 
anger, “‘ You're the awkwardest man I ever 
did see; you can’t do a thing right to save 
you.” 

His humility appeased her; but she could 
not help dreading the next day, and when 
Jud appeared after supper to say that he 
would be there in the morning with Chet 
Thomas to put in a day’s work, she was 
near weeping with relief, and forgot her 
scruples altogether. She told Jud that she 
had put some hay in. 

“Morris helped me,” she explained; and 
the little man laughed in that quick fashion 
of his, a curious hardness in his laughter. 

“Wonder he didn’t drive the mower into 
you,” he commented. 

‘We got in a lot of hay,” she said, driven 
into the defense of Morris by Jud’s scorn. 

“‘Guess you did the bulk of it then,” he 
hazarded, and she felt the justice of this 
and did not deny it. 

She wondered, after Jud was gone, how 
she should explain to Morris. The story of 
the antipathy between the brothers was 
familiar te her. She thought it absurd, but 
at the same time she recognized the fact 
that it was beyond her power to change. 
Jud would, she felt sure, refuse the other's 
help; and she tried to think how she might 
avoid any meeting between them. But the 
matter solved itself; for in the morning 
Morris limped across the road to explain 
apologetically that his ankle was swollen, 
that he would not be able to work that day. 
Cindy hid her relief, showed only her very 
real sympathy for him, and made him let 
her examine the wrenched joint and bathe 
it and rebandage it more firmly. He was 
just starting back across the road again 
when Jud and Chet Thomas drove into the 
yard, and through the open kitchen door 
she heard Jud hail his brother. 

“‘What’'s the.matter with you?” he de- 
manded. ‘Need a crutch?” 

‘Fell off the hayrack,”’ Morris explained 
soberly. ‘‘Give my ankle a kind of twitch.” 

Jud laughed. ‘Too bad it wan't your 
neck,”” he commented; and Chet Thomas 
grinned, and Morris tried without success 
to think of some fit retort, and turned at 
last and limped away 

Jud and Chet went to work with a busi- 
nesslike efficiency; they did the work so 
easily that Cindy felt a furious and unrea- 
sonable resentment at them because they 
did not seem to suffer as she and Morris 
had suffered the day before. 

Sometime late that summer, Jud asked 
her to marry him. There was no particular 
ardor in this advance on his part; but he 
was serious, where usually he was inclined 
to laughter, and she perceived that the oc- 
casion was a painful and an embarrassing 
one for him. His arguments were wholly 
matter of fatt. 

“You can't git on alone like this right 
along,” he pointed out. “‘ You got to have 

look out for you. And our 
farms are all the same farm, you might 
say.” 

She was a little amused, said quizzically, 
“And if I did, you wouldn’t have to pay a 
woman to keep house fer you.” 

He colored at that; colored, she saw, 
with honest hurt rather than with shame; 
and she was surprised and faintly humbled 
to perceive that he loved her; that the 
man was really deeply moved. 

“T never thought of that,’ he said 
lamely; and she nodded and wanted to 
touch his hand by way of comfort. But 
she was afraid such a touch might let loose 
the sleeping fires which now he so well con- 
trolled. 


“IT was 


somebody to 


teasing you,” she confessed, 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


THE USES OF ADVERSITY 


(Continued from Page 11) 


“T wish you would,” he urged. “It’s 
right sensible, if you want to look at it that 
way.” 

“IT don’t know that I want to look at it 
that way,” she retorted. 

“You got to get married sometime,” he 
reminded her. ‘Soon or late.” 

And she said at that, curiously provoked 
with him, “‘ Well, Jud, when the time comes, 
I'll let you know.” 

Thus the matter lay all that winter long. 
If Jud were impatient, he concealed his 
feelings; patience in such affairs is char- 
acteristic of this countryside. Not even 
Will Belter had up to this time perceived 
any possibilities in the situation. Cindy 
got through the winter comfortably; and 
Jud went about his business and made no 
occasion to see her, saw her only as oc- 
casion offered. 

Jud had put in Cindy’s wood again that 
fall, and Cindy was uncomfortable about 
this until Mrs. Hunt told her that Jud had 
said she hired him to do it. 

“There ain’t a bit of need of your hiring 
it done,’ Mrs. Hunt urged Cindy. “‘Gay’d 
do it for you, and glad to. Jud’d ought to 
be ashamed of hisself; but he was always 
one to get a dollar where he could.” 

Cindy was so grateful to Jud for this lie 
that she protected him in it. 

“But I don’t want it done for nothing,” 
she told Mrs. Hunt. “I’m not on the 
town.” 

She considered speaking of the matter to 
Jud, expressing her appreciation of what he 
had done; but the moment never seemed 
fitting, and she never did. 

Sometime during the spring Jud gave 
her a hive of bees. He had half a dozen 
hives in his orchard, and he told her that 
her own trees would benefit from a similar 
arrangement. He brought the hive over 
and set it in place. 

“They'll likely swarm sometime along 
this summer,” he warned her. ‘“‘ But when 
they do, you just come along over, quick as 
you can, and get me and I'll take care of 
*em.” 

Cindy nodded, but when the emergency 
did in fact arise, she was unwilling to send 
for him; she knew in a general way what it 
was necessary to do. The bees had swarmed 
on an upper branch of the maple beside the 
house, a hundred yards or so from the hive, 
and to reach them a ladder was needed. So 
Cindy went across to fetch Morris; and 
Morris came without protest, dragging his 
ladder behind him, and stood still while she 
adjusted a veil about his head and tied 
gloves upon his hands. Then he got the 
ladder up into the tree, so awkwardly that 
he disturbed the swarm and had to wait 
while they settled again; and when eventu- 
ally he climbed up to a point below them, 
the bees hummed around him angrily. 

There are some men who have or seem to 
have a kinship with bees; they may handle 
a swarm without much fear of being stung; 
the sting itself, if they suffer it, does not 
harass them. But Cindy, on the ground, 
saw Morris more than once wince with 
pain; and when he began the attempt to 
brush the bees off into the dish pan Cindy 
had provided, a very cloud of them en- 
compassed him. He came grimly down the 
ladder, the pan in his hands, and Cindy fled 
away before him. But the swarm lifted 
again and bore off and disappeared in the 
direction of the wooded land beyond the 
pasture, and Cindy and he were left to look 
after the bees disconsolately. 

That night Jud heard of the affair and 
came over to Cindy’s farm, and he said 
resentfully, “‘ You'd ought to have sent for 
me, the way I told you. Might have 
knowed Morris couldn't handle ’em.” 

“He was frightfully stung,’”’ Cindy con- 
fessed thoughtfully. ‘I fixed him up well 
as I could; but they got inside his clothes 
and everywhere.” 

Jud laughed. ‘“ Morris never could do a 
thing right,” he commented. “It’s no trick 
to handle bees if you ain't afraid of them. 


He’s scared to death of them.” He went 
over and over the same ground, jeering at 
Morris, blaming her for her share in the 
fiasco; but afterward, and during the suc- 
ceeding days, Cindy went often across the 
road to tend the big man’s hurts and to do 
for him those small household chores which, 
because of his swollen hands, were for the 
moment impossible. 

A week or so later Jud drew a moral from 
the affair. “It just :oes to show that you 
need a man around,” he urged Cindy, ‘“‘to 
do that sort of thing. That’s why I say, 
why don’t we get married? There ain’t any 
sense your staying here alone this way.” 

But though she did not deny him, he 
failed for the time to move her to his will. 

During the rest of the summer she came 
by small degrees to see more of Morris. The 
big man’s humble and submissive mien she 
found vaguely irritating; she was often im- 
patient with him; and when she went, as 
she sometimes did, to put his house in 
order, she was accustomed to berate him 
roundly for his own failures in this respect. 
He was not one to protest. ‘Guess I don’t 
get the trick of it,’’ was the only defense he 
ever offered. But his gratitude expressed 
itself in little ways; he came across the 
road more and more often to seek out small 
services he might do for her; and though he 
did them bunglingly, was in many ways 
more trouble than his help was worth, yet 
she had no heart to thrust him aside. 

One rainy day in early November he 
came in this wise to cut and fit some cord- 
wood for her; she heard his ax in the shed 
soon after breakfast and looked through 
the door and passed the time of day with 
him. 

“T can do that myself,” she told him. 
“There ain't a bit of sense you doing it.” 

“Might as well,” he said diffidently. 
“There ain't a thing to do at home, raining 
the way it is.” 

“‘T guess I could find something to do if I 
was to go over,” she told him, smiling a 
little, and he assented submissively. 

“Guess you could,” he agreed, and 
swung his ax again. 

The event was that when her own house- 
work was done, she left him there in the 
shed and crossed the road and let herself 
into his kitchen; and for an hour or two she 
busied herself there and about the house, 
her sleeves rolled high. She had a kettle of 
water boiling on the stove; went to and fro 
with a hot and sudsy pan of water in her 
hands. 

Now and again she came upon small 
evidence of his ineptitude, and always 
greeted them with a ferocious impatience. 

“That man!” she would exclaim, under 
her breath. Or, ‘‘ Now look at that! Who 
ever saw the likes of him? Helpless as a 
baby, he is.” 

A little before noon, however, Morris 
came in through the kitchen door, his ex- 
pression rueful, as it so often was; and he 
was limping, and he sat down rather quickly 
in a chair just within the kitchen, and a red 
stain spread upon the-boards... 

Cindy flew to him, catching up a sheet of 
paper as she went, and she lifted his foot 
and set it on the paper. 

“After I’ve scrubbed all morning!” she 
cried indignantly. ‘‘What you gone and 
done now, Morris?” 

He grinned in a shamed way. ‘Looks 
like I'd learn,’”’ he confessed, and began to 
untie his shoe. There was, she saw, a gash 
in the side, toward the heel; and she helped 
him get the shoe off, scolding steadily. 

“You been using an ax all your life,”’ she 
told him. ‘‘A man your age to go a-cutting 
hisself! Is it bad, Morris?” 

“Just kind of nicked it,’’ he explained. 
“Don’t hurt any to mention.” 

She found that the cut was in fact not 
particularly serious; no more than a deep 
skin wound. : 

“But I guess it’s going to have to be 
sewed up,” she decided. ‘‘I’ll have to go 
fetch Doctor Crapo.” 


August 14,1926 


“Guess I can stitch it up,” he protested. 
“Tie a rag around it and it'll be all right, 
looks to me.” 

She was a woman of courage, and she 
nodded. ‘‘I’ll fix it,’’ she decided. ‘‘ You 
set still till I get some hot water and get it 
clean.” She had, it appeared, a certain 
comprehension of the measures that were 
advisable; for she put cotton thread and 
a big needle into the kettle to boil, and 
scrubbed her hands with soap and hot water, 
and then in like fashion cleansed the wound 
and closed it. She was too deeply absorbed 
in this task to pay much heed to him; 
gave him only the slightest glances while 
she worked. She had drawn up a chair 
and placed his injured foot upon it; and 
she bent over this busily, and was at last 
in the act of adjusting the bandages when 
he rolled limply out of his chair to the floor. 
Cindy gave an exclamation of impatience. 

“Drat the man! You might know he’d 
faint on me!” 

She had been so careful to protect his 
foot from contamination that she caught it 
up from the floor now; and then she re- 
membered that to elevate the feet and 
lower the head was a remedy for fainting, 
so she lifted his other foot too. After a mo- 
ment his eyes opened and began to focus, 
and his head wagged limply, and she said in 
asharp tone, “ You lay there! Goa-fainting 
that way!” 

He made no defense; and after a mo- 
ment she asked, “‘ Hurt, did I?”’ 

He shook his head apologetically. ‘Kind 
of—tickled when you stuck that needle in. 
I never looked to go and act this way.” 

She let him lie there while she finished 
the bandaging, and got him into a chair 
afterward, and prepared food for him; but 
when she came to the house at suppertime 
she found him able to get around the kitchen 
and attend his own needs. She made him 
sit down, and waited on him; but at the 
same time she chided him in terms un- 
measured. 

Morris only said, ‘‘I was always one to 
get into trouble. Things never did go right 
for me.” 

The affair, of course, was noised abroad; 
everyone in town knew about it, and they 
laughed at Morris for hisawkwardness. But 
Jud was irritated with Cindy for her part. 

“Let him alone,”’ he advised her. ‘‘He 
ain’t worth bothering with. He’ll fall off 
his own back step some day and break his 
neck, and it’s time he did. I never did see 
such a thumb-handed man.” 

“Somebody had to take care of him,” she 
suggested gently, and Jud shook his head. 

“‘Didn’t have to be you.” 

“He was working for me when it hap- 
pened.” 

“Wan’t any call for him to,” Jud re- 
torted. ‘I'd have done it, time enough.” 
He added in a sudden explosion of bitter 
wrath: ‘“‘He’s a-hanging around here too 
much, making trouble for you. I aim to 
tell him to keep away.” 

Cindy did not in words object to this, but 
she studied Jud with a curious eye. It oc- 
curred to her—she knew quite well that ina 
little town such matters are public knowl- 
edge—that someone had been laughing at 
Jud, telling him that Morris was his rival 
Cindy was amused at the thought of a 
rivalry between these two; between Morris, 
so inert and unaggressive, and Jud, this 
alert and assured little man. But she did 
not voice this amusement to Jud himself. 

Will Belter came to see Cindy next day. 
Will, who had an insatiable and shameless 
curiosity, and an ungovernable love for 
telling tales, made everyone's affairs his 
own. 

He had a great many questions, covert 
and direct, to put to Cindy; andshe listened 
courteously, and talked with him at length, 
and sent him away so well content that he 
did not realize he had learned nothing at all. 

That night at the store, he repeated his 
opinion that she would in due time marry 
Jud. (Continued on Page 146) 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 











Built to make radio tubes 
work better 
and last longer! 


This new “A” battery gives uniform voltage and 


possesses remarkable Staying power 





ERE is a new ‘‘A”’ battery made 
especially for radio use. Anexclu- 
sive formula used in its construc- 


tion enables it to deliver steady, level volt- 
age and gives it extraordinary long life. 


In vacuum tube sets an ‘‘A”’ battery is 
used for but one purpose —to heat the 
tube filaments tu the point where they 
will expel sufficient electrons for the ‘*B” 
batteries to work. 


If the filaments are not heated enough, 
the racio is dumb, or amplification is 
decreased. If they are tvo hot, the life 
of the filaments is cut short. 


This new Ray-O-Vac ‘‘A”’ battery rep- 
rese its the latest achievement of radio 
engineers in developing a battery that 
provides uniform, level voltage for tube 
filaments. 


Staying Power of Two Kinds 


And it is a long time before you need 
throw this battery away. Like all Ray- 
O-Vac batteries, it has staying power. It 
retains its strength when not in use (es- 
pecially important inthe less active sum- 
mer months), and. after being used it 
starts to rebuild its strength the instant 
the current is turned off. 


The best way to be sure of getting radio 
‘*A”’ batteries with uniform voltage and 

















FRENCH BATTERY COMPANY 
SON.WISCONSIE omits 





-Actual size (2% inches diameter, 6% inches 
high), with screw binding post terminals 


staying power is to ask for Ray-O-Vacs 
No. 1211 by name and number and iden- 
tify them by the carton shown here. 


Ray-O-Vac batteries are used and en- 
dorsed by these eminent radioengineers: 
Dr. Lee pve Forest, the father’ of 
radio broadcasting; Wittiam H. 
Prigss, inventor of the “‘reflex’’ prin- 
ciple; Joseph Woxrr, Vice President 
of the Sonora Company; Cnaries V. 
LoGwoop, co-inventor with Dr. Lee 
pE Forest of the audion tube, which 
made broadcasting possible, and dis- 
coverer of the audion amplifier; JoserH 
D. R. Freep, President of the Freed- 
Eisemann RadioCorporation, the world’s 
largest makers of Neutrodyne radio re- 
ceivers; Lawrence M. Cockapay, 
Technical Editor of ‘‘Popular Radio.”’ 


Ray-O-Vac batteries (A, B and C) are 
sold by radio and electrical dealers, hard- 
ware stores and autosupply shops every- 
where. If you have any trouble getting 
them, write us for the name and address 
of a nearby dealer who can supply you. 
We will send youa free copy of the ‘‘Ray- 
O-Vac Manualand Broadcasting Station 
Directory.” 


FRENCH BATTERY COMPANY 
MADISON, WISCONSIN 
Also makers of flashlights and batteries, 


and ignition batteries 









THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14,1926 


SWatom aetedone 


o) ETA ETETANEYY, 
_ to Sleep 


» Aiea bi) Stee eS 
~ PR SS5550359. 005 5 De 


CURVE IN THE SPINE WHEN YOU SLEEP ON THE ROME QUALITY DE LUXE BEDSPRING 


Health’s Secret is 


Health’s secret-—and beauty’s secret too—may de- 
pend upon as simple a thing as the curve of your 
spinal column. 

When you lie down to sleep at night the torn-down 
cells in the body must be restored. The nerves play 
a vital part in this restoration, because they direct 
every other function of the body—the flow of the 
cleansing blood—the action of the bodily organs— 
everything which makes the mind and body fresh 


In justice to your health, lo ‘or this 

trade-mark. The f ame, ‘Rome 

Qualiry DE LUXE,” appears on the 
side vail of the genuine. 


and vigorous on the morning of each new day. 
And all the nerves pass through the spinal column! 


Imagine the results when the spine is twisted by 
a bedspring which sags. It puts numbing pressure on 
delicate nerves and paralyzes the whole system. And 
the same sagging bedspring keepsthe muscles cramped 
—your whole body is uncomfortable and tense, in- 
stead of relaxed, rested and restored. 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





‘The Wrong 
‘oyun Obebetstacee:)| Way 


to Slee 


NOTE THE CURVE IN THE SPINE CAUSED BY SLEEPING ON THE ORDINARY SAGGING BEDSPRING 


* * ’ 
in these pictures 
No wonder that millions have sought safety—and beauty are protected from the insidious inroads of 
found it—by discarding their old bedsprings for the poisons of fatigue. 
Rome Quality De Luxe—the Bedspring Luxurious. The merchant who sells Rome De Luxe bedsprings 
' This bedspring is scientifically designed to support renders a service to humanity. In justice to him, as 
I every part of the body in perfect balance. It yields well as yourself, let no one sell you a substitute. These 
to the curves of the shoulders and hips—yet gives bedsprings are so honestly built that they keep their 
! gentle, pleasing support to the small of the back, neck resilience for a lifetime. Buy them for economy as 
and head. With this wonderful bedspring, deep, well as health. Better dealers everywhere endorse 
healthful, soothing sleep is assured; and health and _—_and sell them. For wood or metal beds. 
! Fe ane Cones 
Sao My 








t TRADE MARK REG 
U.S. PAT. OFFICE 


4 he Be, Li dsprvino 47 , 
a= ff f / 
f £€ epi si tre Fi 


Pi yy 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14, 1926 


Owners Know 


























© THE WHITE CO., 1926 


HERE is only one truck or bus that has 
"ll cach power, strength, dependability, 
life and earning capacity as a White..... 
That’s another White. 


THE WHITE COMPANY «+ «+ CLEVELAND 


WHITE TRUCKS 


MADE RIGHT ~ SOLD RIGHT ~- KEPT RIGHT 





» 


er 


EX 


a 


a 


—_ 











Continued from Page 140 

Gay Hunt said, ‘She's long enough about 
it, looks to me.”’ 

“She's a-waiting till she’s ready,” Belter 
assured him. “That's the whole of it.” 

The others were of divided opinion. Some 
thought she wou!d marry Jud and some 
thought not; but Morris, Jud’s brother, 
was scarce mentioned in the discussion at all. 


In Fraternity, through the long winters, 
when the snow lies heavy on the ground and 
the outer air is still and biting cold, neither 
chickens nor swine nor cattle may safely go 
abroad. So the farmer gathers his stock 
into his great barn. The cows stand in their 
tie-ups—save in moderate weather— all day 
long, and they must be watered and be fed. 
The pigs are penned in a corner of the barn 
floor, or they are housed below. Chickens 
have another pen apart. All the beasts and 
fowl thus gathered together under one roof 
live in a neighborly communion, raising 
their voices at times in unison; and the 
cows emanate a bodily warmth which 
tempers the outer cold and makes the in- 
terior of the barn not at all uncomfortable; 
a drowsy place, clean enough in its fashion, 
filled with a warm and heavy air. And in 
bins and boxes and barrels the roots from 
the garden are stored, and apples perhaps; 
and in the mow the piled hay lies, its faint 
dust impalpably filling the air. There are 
usually a few cats about, dozing all day 
long on the timbers above the tie-up; and 
on most farms you will also find a dog. 

Cindy had three cows now, and she still 
had a pig, and she had a dozen hens and a 
rooster or two. As it was on other farms, 
so it was with her; she housed them all in 
the barn, connected with the house by the 
shed. To tend them it was not necessary 
for her to go out of doors; the pump was in 
the shed, the feed was in the barn. She 
went to and fro among them, and they 
knew her coming and welcomed her each 
after its own fashion. When she pumped 
water she could hear the cows lowing softly 
at the sound; when she opened the door be- 
tween shed and barn the pig grunted and 
reared himself on the side of his pen and 
the chickens came clustering against the 
wire to watch her with anxiously bobbing 
heads and little clucks of nervous appre- 
hension for fear she would forget their 
needs. She used to talk to them while she 
filled the troughs or the pans; she had 
names for each one, and they were indi- 
viduals to her. 

During the winter each farm about Fra- 
ternity is to some extent isolated, self- 
contained and at the same time remote. If 
the snow be deep, there is very little visit- 
ing to and fro; the glimpse of someone in a 
sleigh, bundled among his furs, passing 
by, may be the only contact with another 
human being all the long day. Thus man- 
kind is driven to find solace in the company 
and the dependence of the beasts. 

There are, in this work, small problems 
forever arising. A chicken, for no reason 
that can be discovered, may be found one 
morning dead in the pen; or perhaps its 
throat is torn, or its flesh half eaten, so that 
vermin must be reckoned with. Or the 
pig breaks down half the side of his sty and 
this must be repatred. Cindy met these 
difficulties as they came along, using make- 
shift means when none better afforded; and 
it was one such incident which in the end 
precipitated matters between her and 
Morris and his brother Jud. 

The cows in the tie-up were held in their 
places by two perpendicular staves which 
fitted on either side of the neck; the beasts 
were thus free to stand or to lie down; but 
the staves were close enough together so 
that it was impossible to escape from their 
hold. Cindy had an old cow which they 
had owned while her husband was still 
alive, a cow with a black flank and a white 
back and head, a cow of doubtful age. 
Cindy’s husband, when he bought her, had 
named her Faith, because she was at that 
time dry. Faith’s daughter, Belle, a two- 
year-old heifer, stood next her; and the 
third cow, not a member of the family, was 
in the second stall beyond. 











When Cindy came to the barn one morn- 
ing she found that Faith had broken one of 
the staves which held her in her appointed 
place. As a matter of convenience, it is 
better to keep a cow where she belongs; so 
Cindy, for default of a stave that would re- 
place the broken one, fastened Faith by a 
chain. But Faith was a creature of habit, 
and the chain discommoded her and she 
resented it; and after a few days Cindy was 
brought to submit to Faith's protests, and 
thereafter allowed the cow the freedom of 
the tie-up. She could do no great harm 
there; and the roots—turnips and beets 
and carrots—were out of her reach on the 
barn floor, in boxes among the apple bar- 
rels there. A door between the tie-up and 
the barn floor barred the way. The ar- 
rangement became familiar. Cindy’s first 
apprehensions passed and her vigilance re- 
laxed, and one night she forgot to secure 
this door. 

So it came to pass that at about two 
o'clock one morning Morris, across the 
road, heard someone calling at his window 
in the night; and he woke and made 
response, and recognized the voice of Cindy. 

She said calmly enough, ‘ Morris, the 
old cow’s sick. Can’t you come over and 
try to do some good for her?” 

‘That you, Cindy?” he asked; and she 
said, ‘‘Yes, Morris, yes.’’ She added less 
patiently, ‘‘The old cow’s sick. I can’t do 
her any good.” 

“You get on home,” he said. ‘‘I’ll come 
right away.” And as he got out of bed he 
saw her dark figure against the snow on the 
ground outside; saw her start back across 
the road. The business of dressing occupied 
him only for a moment; he was only a 
little way behind her. 

He found Cindy in the barn, her lantern 
hung on the disused hayrack and casting 
queer and gigantic shadows all about; and 
Faith, the overturned apple barrels testify- 
ing that she had eaten not wisely but too 
well, in sore distress of spirit and of body. 
Thereafter for a while he did what he could, 
and Cindy helped him; and she shivered a 
little because it was night, and all about 
was still, and the shadows were so black. 
Sleep was near overpowering her; she drew 
back and leaned against the pigpen and her 
eyes half closed, and the scene lost all 
reality for her and seemed more and more 
like a dream. 

Morris must have been sleepy, too— 
drugged with sleep. He moved like a man 
in a daze, and his hands were uncertain, 
and he stumbled across the hay-littered 
barn floor. 

He was for a while absorbed in what he 
had to do; but he looked toward Cindy at 
last and said uncertainly, ‘‘ Guess you might 
as well go in the house. I'll stay long’s 
there’s anything to do.” 

“I’m cold,” she confessed sleepily. 

He nodded. ‘‘Go along,” he urged. “I'll 
light you through the shed.”” And when, 
after a moment's uncertainty, she stirred 
to do as he suggested, he took the lantern 
from the hay rack where it hung. She 
stepped past him and he followed her a pace 
behind, and doing so he passed too near 
the corner of the rack. A hayfork lay on 
the bed of this conveyance, and one of the 
tines caught in the frame of the lantern and 
twitched it from his sleepy hand. To make 
the catastrophe complete, the lantern 
touched the hub of the wheel as it fell and 
the glass was shattered, and the flame met 
the litter of hay on the floor, and oil flowed 
out to feed the little fire so swiftly that for 
all the fierce and instant zeal with which 
he threw himself upon it, Morris could not 
stop its spread. It touched the edge of a 
mound of hay against the foot of the mow 
and roared upward, and—so swiftly did 
disaster come—within no more than a 
second or two the cause was become a hope- 
less one. 

But the two, Cindy and Morris, were 
wide awake enough now; and in the time 
which was left to them, through the billow- 
ing and choking smoke shot with red flares, 
they fought in desperate wise. Morris 
flung wide the further door and harried the 
sick cow into the open, and half drove, half 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 





flung the pig into a drift outside; and he 
leaped toward the tie-up and loosed the 
cows there, and drove them into the lane, 
now deep with snow, which led in summer 
toward the pasture behind the barn. The 
chicken pen was at Cindy's end of the 
barn —the fire had bloomed between them 
and while Morris did these things she had 
the chickens out, driving them clacking 
and fluttering into the snow. They flew or 
ran a dozen paces, then stopped to re- 
capture their shattered dignity; but the 
snow gave way loosely beneath their feet 
and they floundered there absurdly, crow- 
ing and cackling in resentment. 

When Morris had the stock clear of the 
barn, he ran around its outer side to the 
further door of the shed, intent only on 
seeking some means to check the fire there. 
He had been somewhat burned in his first 
efforts to avert the destruction he had let 
loose, and his hands were blistered now, 
but he forgot them, flinging himself at the 
cordwood piled in the shed in the end 
toward the barn, throwing it back, making 
a clear space, working with no particular 
plan, but with a tremendous zeal. In the 
barn, the flames were roaring; smoke and 
the glare came through the cracks in the 
shed wall to him. But his own exertions 
were so absorbing that he did not hear 
Cindy behind him till she cried out. He 
had thrown a billet of birch which struck 
her below the knees, tumbling her to the 
ground, and she scrambled to her feet and 
screamed at him, ‘‘ Morris! Morris!” 

He stopped then, and turned and looked 
at her stupidly; and she cried, “You big 
fool! Oh, you fool! Oh, you ain’t got the 
sense What you trying to do?”’ 

He said humbly, “I figure I might keep 
it from spreading.” 

“Don’t you know anything?” she de- 
manded. “There ain't any stopping it now. 
All I can do is get things out of the house. 
You come along with me!”’ He did not at 
once move, and she cried, “‘Come on, you! 
Move yourself, Morris! Come on!” 

Her tone galvanized him; he followed 
her. And thereafter, while the barn blazed 
high and the inexorable flames crept through 
the shed, they labored mightily. It was her 
wisdom which bade them begin with the 
kitchen, and then with the dining room, 
since here first the fire would come; it 
was her judgment which chose those things 
she treasured most for this poor salvation. 
And Morris, submitting to her, doing as she 
bade, accomplished miracles of toil. It 
chanced that the glare from the fire reached 
no other eyes, roused no single one of the 
surrounding farms, where at that hour folk 
slept soundly. 

The night was still, the smoke rose in a 
red column high and higher, losing itself at 
last in a pale blur against the star-pricked 
sky. None came to help them; they worked 
alone; and when at last they were driven 
to give over the task, surrender to the 
flames, they drew back toward the road, 
and Morris looked toward the barn, already 
fallen in and dying into glowing embers; 
and he watched the house itself burst into a 
torch and blaze fiercely for a while and then 
begin to die. But Cindy was making in- 
ventory, cataloguing in her mind those 
things which she had saved. She was 
astonished to discover their number; she 
thought back, and she guessed at the time 
of night, and it seemed impossible they 
could have done so much so quickly. When 
she spoke to him at last, there was some- 
thing almost like approval in her voice. 

“‘T declare, Morris,”’ she said, “you're a 
good worker when you’ve got someone to 
tell you what to do.” 

Morris said nothing; he was sunk in 
black despair. But after a minute she 
roused him. 

“‘No sense a-setting here,”’ she decided. 
“‘There’s room in your barn for the cows 
and all. Let’s get ’em in, Morris.” 

So by and by they had the animals under 
shelter; and the chickens submitted to be 
led or captured and transported to their 
new home and went composedly to roost 
again, cackling resentfully in their sleep for 
Continued on Page 147) 





“ATKINS” & 


Better Blades 
for Any Metal 


N° matter what metal 
you cut—it will pay 
you to be sure the ATKINS 
name is on the blade. Only 
genuine ATKINS Hack 
Saw Blades pass the “file 
test’ to insure you easier, 
faster, surer meta! cutting. 
ATKINS steel and tem- 
pering save you time, labor 


and money. 


ATKINS 
Chart, 
blade for every use, and 
the interesting book 
“SAWS in the SHOP” 
will be mailed you FREE. 
E. C. ATKINS & CO. 


Established 1857 


1 ling M . huvers of Hig tGrad iv 


Hack Saw 
showing the best 


Bre { wi “ 4 
Pla ring Tr , and Ma 
INDIANAPOLIS, U.S. A. 


F.) Pp 


r A mive 











t 














THE SATURDAY EVENING August 14,1926 


U 


By Throwing the Light of Public Inspection Upon 


All Its Operations Certain-teed Has Gained a World. 
Wide Appreciation of Its Policies and Aims. 


Public inspection of its activities has been a stiroulus 
to greater efficiency. It has encouraged the scientific 


Sincerity begets confidence ... and to most manufac- 
turing enterprises, public confidence is the greatest 


single asset they can possess. From its foundation, two 
decades ago, Certain-teed has madea point of opening 
its plants, operation, and policies to the outside world. 


By throwing the pitiless light of publicity on its own 
activities, Certain-teed has helped to lift the veil of 
misconception and exaggeration which long stood 
between industrial enterprises and the consumer. 


standardization of Certain-teed products. 


This policy has not only been a protection to pur- 
chasers of Certain-teed products—it has been an in- 
spiration to the company itself. For each member feels 
an added responsibility in upholding the established 
Certain-teed standards of extra quality, extra value 
and extra service. 


ASPHALT ROOFINGS 
ASPHALT SHINGLES 
BUILDING PAPERS 
BUILDING FELTS 
PAINTS - VARNISHES 


LINOLEUM 
FLOORTEX (raz ast) 
OIL CLOTH 
GYPSUM PLASTERS 


es BUILDING BLOCKS 














(Continued from Page 145 
a while. And before daylight, what nad 
been Cindy’s home was blackening and 
only the stark chimney rose from the cellar 
hole above the level of the ground. 


By and by, of course, people began to 
come that way. Gay Hunt and Mrs. Hunt 
were the first, and then Chet Thomas, and 
then Lee Motley and Mrs. Motley; and 
then others came in little groups, flounder- 
ing through the snow. Cindy had gone to 
sleep at last upon the couch in Morris’ 
dining room; but Morris was awake and 
met the first to come; and thereafter as 
others gathered they moved to and fro in 
little groups or stood to survey the ashes. 
Chet McAusland it was who pointed out 
that snow was imminent, that the things 
which had been saved must be got under 
cover, and everyone helped at this business, 
stowing the stuff away in Morris’ barn or in 
his house where there was room. 

They were thus occupied when Jud 
Brisker came. Jud had, unaccountably, 
slept late that morning; it was Will Belter 
who, with the nose for drama which was 
his birthright, had carried him the news. 

“Cindy Weed’s whole stand of buildings 
has burned down,” he said. “‘And they’re 
carrying everything over to Morris’ barn.” 

Jud, already jumping into his clothes, 
asked sharply, “How'd it start?’”’ And 
Will knew and told him; and Jud exploded 
in a wrath and scorn which Will found in- 
finitely stirring. So a littie later these two 
came along the road, Jud almost running, 
Will hurrying at his heels. 

They came into the groups about the 
furniture, and Jud asked at large, ‘‘ Where’s 
Cindy?” 

Lee Motley said, ‘“‘She’s in the house, 
Jud.” And Jud nodded and went toward 
the kitchen and found Cindy there with 
Mrs. Hunt and Mrs. Motley. Morris was 
at the moment in the barn, helping with the 
task of clearing space there. Cindy stood 
by the stove, watching a pot of coffee al- 
most at the boil, and the others were beside 
her, and they all three turned to look at Jud 
as he came in with Will Belter at his heels 
and one or two others just behind. But Jud 
turned and shut the door against these 
others; only Will was already within the 
room, and Jud seemed not to remark him. 
He came toward Cindy, and she stood 
waiting for him there, a littie smile upon 
her lips and in her eyes. 








He asked quickly, “You all right, 
Cindy?”’ And she nodded without reply- 
ing. ‘Morris burnt you out, Will says,” 
Jud exclaimed; and Cindy glanced sidewise 
at Will Belter, faintly discomfiting that not 
easily embarrassed man. But Mrs. Hunt 
answered, indignantly enough. 

“He dropped the lantern,” she explained. 
*Cindy’s cow was sick and she come and 
fetched Morris over and he dropped the 
lantern on a pile of hay.” 

Jud was purple with anger at this brother 
of his. “It’s a wonder he wouldn’t burn 
hisself out!’’ he cried. “It’s a wonder he 
wouldn’t ever do any hurt to hisself, in- 
stead of you.” ilis lips twisted with the 
violence of his own emotions, but he spoke 
more gently. “Cindy, you come along 
down to my place. It’s time you come. I 
told you you'd have to, in the end.” 

She bowed her head a little, as though in 
some faint embarrassment, and he said 
quickly, “‘Everybody knows I want you 
should marry me, Cindy. I guess you're 
ready now. It’s a good time, with every- 
body here; they can carry your things down 
there right now.” 

She said mildly, ‘‘You’re a manager, 
Jud.” 

He seemed to feel a faint criticism im- 
plicit in her word. 

“‘T can take care of you,” he asserted, “‘if 
that’s what you mean. I’ve got a good 
farm, and it’s in good shape, and I can look 
out for you. You won’t have to chop wood 
and all; you won't have to hardly more 
than lift your hand, Cindy. All I want’sa 
chance to do for you.” 

“I don’t know as I want you to do for 
me,” she confessed gently, and he knew 
her thought and he exclaimed resentfully, 
“You wouldn’t go to marry Morris, 
Cindy!” 

Her eyes met his. “I don’t know as I 
wouldn’t,”’ she retorted. 

“He can’t do anything right,” Jud ex- 
ploded. ‘‘He never touched anything he 
didn’t spoil. He’s helpless as a baby, all the 
time. You'd have to just wash his face for 
him ’fore you was done. I sh’d think you'd 
know by this time, now’t he’s burned you 
out of house and home. He can’t plow a 
garden and he can’t drive a hayrake; he 
can’t load hay or mow it; he can’t even 
chop wood without he cuts hisself; and he 
can’t take a lantern into a barn without he 
sets it on fire. You'd have to do for him; 
but I can take care of you, Cindy.” 


THE SATURDAY 


EVENING POST 


He seemed to feel then that he had said | 
enough, that he had said all that needed | 
saying; and he was still, and Cindy stood | 


before him, head a little bowed. And Mrs 
Hunt and Mrs. Motley and Will Belter 
watched her, waiting for what she should 
say. They waited what seemed a very long 
time, while Cindy stood thus thinking, and 
they might have waited longer. But Chet 


McAusland came to the door and opened 


it, and he caught Cindy’s eye. 
“Mis’ Weed,” he said, ““you want we 


should put your bureau in the barn, or 


9 


where? 

Cindy glanced at Jud and she smiled 
gently at the little man, as though she 
would, if she could, have softened the blow. 
But when she spoke it was to Chet. 


“Guess you better bring it in the house, 


Chet,” she said gravely. “Bring it in and 


put it in the front room.” 


Jud made one last protest, like a cry: | 


“Cindy, Cindy, what do you want to do 
that for? He can’t even take care of hisself; 
he can’t do anything.” 


She nodded, half a dozen times, as though 


affirming this on her own account and to 
herself. 

“That’s why somebody’s got to take 
care of him,” she said. 

And Jud, after a moment, laughed; he 
laughed in a fashion quite without mirth. 
And with no further word he stalked out of 


the kitchen and along the road toward his 


home. 


The matter was, of course, discussed and 
rediscussed at the store, evening upon eve- 
ning. Will Belter loved to tell over again 
the familiar tale. 


“That’s the way with a woman,” he was | 


accustomed to say at the end. “Jud had 
gone out o’ his way to look out for her, and 
Morris had burnt her out. 
tell what they'll do.”’ 

Jim Saladine came down one night from 
his farm upon the Ridge and heard the talk 
through, and he made a suggestion at the 
end. 

“Trouble was,” he pointed out, “‘she 
hadn't ever had a chance to do anything 
for Jud. It’s doing things for people makes 
you like ’em, always seemed to me.” 

“*She’ll have a plenty of chance to do for 
Morris,”’ Will said derisively, and Saladine 
nodded. 

““Yes,”” he agreed; “‘yes. Well, I figure 
that was what she was looking for.” 


WHAT PRICE BRIBERY? 


Let us, for example, take the pocket- 
handkerchief harbor of Porto Pifia—be- 
cause there is no such place—lovely though 
it lies in the tropic sun, with its score of 
American schooners riding, lazily at anchor 
while tourist-filled launches snake in and 
out among the dingy fleet of ‘‘whiskeros,”’ 
as they are called in the vernacular. 

One of these whiskeros is an able-looking 
schooner called the Matilda. The Matilda is 
bowspritless, and she boasts the sweet lines 
and lovely sheer of the later Gloucester- 
men. But her canvas is filthy, her ratlines 
sagging, her rigging worn and frazzled. She 
is battered and dingy from stem to stern 
and from truck to keelson. She is a one- 
time queen of the fishing fleet, now pros- 
tituted to the sordid uses of a crew of West 
Indian cutthroats and halfbreed negroes. 
But that’s the way we get our liquor. 

The Matilda flies the flag of Licodonia, 
a banana republic even more obscure than 
Porto Pifia itself—a flag seldom seen ex- 
cept in an encyclopedia or at the peak of a 
rum runner. The vessel is actually owned 
by a gentleman from St. Louis, variously 
known as Red or Slim Herrin. Mr. Herrin 
resides permanently in Porto Pifia, since 
his health cannot stand the rather seden- 
tary life which the American authorities 
would accord him should he return to the 
States. But Mr. Herrin is content. In the 
old days he used to peddle heroin in little 
twists of white paper, and oftentimes he 


(Continued from Page 29) 


didn’t know where his next sniff was com- 
ing from. Now he owns the Matilda and 
three other schooners. Also he owns a 
really sizable bank account and half the 
muddy-eyed port officials of Porto Pifia. 

At the moment Slim Herrin is superin- 
tending the loading of the Matilda. She is 
taking on Scotch whisky from a big lighter 
alongside. Slim sits cross-legged on a bitt 
head and examines his papers. He has just 
come from the Licodonian consul’s office. 
His arrangements are as follows: 

He is loading the Matilda with 950 cases 
of assorted whisky for shipment to Lico- 
donia. Pursuant to his standing arrange- 
ment with the Licodonian consul, he has 
paid that coffee-colored diplomat fifty cents 
a case, or a matter of $425 gold for this 
practical transaction. In return, the con- 
sul has provided him with all papers needed 
to get out of Porto Pifia, plus a forged, but 
very essential document to get back into 
Porto Pifia with—in short, a certificate 
from the Republic of Licodonia, purporting 
to show that the Matilda discharged in 
Licodonia and was cleared again in ballast 
for Porto Pifia. 

So the once lovely Matilda pulls up her 
mudhook and heads rather shamedly out 
of the pocket-handkerchief harbor. She is 
chockablock with German-made rotgut 
Scotch, so that her for’sail boom scarce 
clears the deck load. The sight-seeing 


launches toot their little sirens, and the 





tourists wave excitedly to the polyhued 
crew, and the crew waves boredly back. 
And then the tourists return to their tour- 


ist hotels and tell importantly of how they | 


have watched their country being made an 
ass of. 

But the Matilda is on her way. Nosooner 
is she clear of the headland than the crew 
turns to and begins to sack the whisky. 


The mate breaks open a few bales of gunny 


sacks—they come specially cut, short and 


flat, to hold either six or twelve bottles | 


each--and distributes them among the 
workers, together with needles, twine, 
rushes and marking pots. Two men with 
box openers attack the case goods, passing 
the bottles to the sackers, and heaving the 
empty cases overboard. Slowly the deck 
load is nibbled away, and in its place are 
rows upon rows of tight-sewn, inconspicu- 
ous dun-brown bundles of bottles. 

Night closes softly down. The schooner 
shows no lights. Her wake is marked by a 
dotted line of floating boxes at curiously 
regular intervals. Ahead of her lie the 
American coast and the waiting speed 
boats. 

And a few days later she is back in Porto 
Pita, serenely ready with her forged papers 
to show that she discharged and cleared 
from Licodonia. And if, as is not infre- 
quently the case, the Porto Pifia inspectors 
are greedily skeptical concerning the au- 
thenticity of these documents—that again 





You can’t ever | 












are using 
Waire Witcu 


instead of soap 


Ic's in the 
handy Blue 
and Gray can 
your neigh- 


bor had on 
the wash- 
stand. 


Nothing like 
it to take off soot and train dust. 


It deodorizes as it cleans. 


The Waite Wircu can packs 
handily in any part of the grip 
Anywhere you go from Coast to 
Coast you can depend on Wut 
Wircu to lather freely in hot or 
cold Soften Hard Water, 
rinse easily too. Always sanitary. 





water, 


“Every Shake a Fresh Cake” 


ree 


ar 








” 


4 


if he cannor | 
us his name 
size can 


WAsie) ASh caler 
Witch. 
SETTER Haw Boer | and r afull 


oes 
- 


AMERICAN Dye ¢€ 
Dept.S Mr. Vern N. ¥ 


NORTH 
















[For all cE 


ufacturing Compan 
pittsburgh. Pa —__ 









Part time representatives can easily increase their in 
come $30 weekly in spare time Full time people canearn 









Johnson Earned $80 in a Day 








Selling America’s most fairly priced and widely 
known line of Made-to-Order"™ Personal and 
Business Christmas Greeting Cards, in universal 
demand among Banks, Business, Society and Pro- 
fessional people. For full details and exclusive territory 






ADDRESS DEPT.’ A 
The Process Engraving Co., Inc. 
Troy at 2ist St., Chicago 











Carry Good Luck with you 
The best pocket piece is a 


| Pilcher Detachable Button 


ing when one 
nd a 
or th 


nt r thread 





t ‘ hree lor 
6 for 10 Cents > San Fre 


PILCHER MFG. CO., Inc., Dept. C, LOUISVILLE, KY. | 














Jo All RETAILERS 





I W I 8 Dest adveriis 

ing for y Re ace tinary switch wit! 

10-Day TORK CLOCK Turns lights on 

& OFF regularly at times set. Signs too. Ne 

attendance neede No waste $20 and 

up. Stocked in tc ties | 
Write t ‘HM INDOW MAGIK 


: | 
TORK COMPANY, 12 East 41 St., New York | 











THE SATURDAY 


Buy separately 
or in 
assortments 























Is there a breakfast nook 
in your home? 


O wonder so many homes now have breakfast nooks. 

They save lots of work and add to the enjoyment of 
breakfast. It’s not difficult to construct a little breakfast 
nook, yourself. You can also make your own work bench, 
porch swing, or bookcase. You can do scores of repair jobs 
around home. And among the pleasures of life there are 
not many which are greater than the satisfaction of making 


things with your own hands. 


For satisfactory work you must have good tools. There 
are no better tools than Stanley Tools. Carpenters every- 
where use Stanley Tools and Stanley Tools are used in 
manual training classes from coast to coast. 


EVENING POST 


is a nominal matter of twenty-five or fifty 
dollars gold. And so it goes, day after day, 
summer and winter, year in and year out. 
Now Americans have always arrogated 
to themselves the right to break their own 
laws in their own fool way. That’s all very 


| well for an American in America—to get 
| drunk or poisoned or go to jail in response 
| to his beliefs or his appetites. 





You can buy Stanley Tools separately and so collect your 
own set. For your convenience in buying, there are also sets 
of Stanley Tools at a wide variety of prices. In chests: from 
No. 904 containing 12 Stanley Tools at $15, to No. 850 con- 
taining 49 Stanley Tools at $95. Or there are assortments 
in strong cardboard boxes with simple directions in each for 
making vour own chest. Prices $5 to $20. 


zs 


Ask your hardware dealer to show you the line of Stanley 
Tools. Send for our Catalogue No. 34 which describes 
Stanley Tools both separately and in assortments. Address: 
The Stanley Works, New Britain, Conn. 





The best tools are the cheapest to use 
Ask your hardware dealer 








STANLEY TOOLS 








But there is many an ardent and sincere 
wet who would be genuinely shocked were 
he to spend a few days in some one of these 
fly-by-night foreign ports and see the men 
and the mechanism of international rum 
running; he would be genuinely amazed at 
the organized dirtiness of the whole busi- 
ness— inextricably mixed up in these South- 
ern countries with alien running, opium 
smuggling and white slaving—and he would 
be genuinely mortified at the attitude of 
cynical contempt which these people have 
developed toward us and our laws. 

There are American governmental repre- 
sentatives in some of these rum-reservoir 
ports—consular officials and others, men 
who are as wet in politics, in principle and 
in practice as the wettest senator on the 
horizon at the moment —men, nevertheless, 
who are fighting the rum traffic to the limit 
of their powers and their opportunities. 

Such men are wets in every sense of the 
word. They hate prohibition and all its 
ways. But even more do they hate having 
to apologize for their country. They are 
sick and ashamed of representing the United 
States in ports where the American colony 
consists largely of American criminals con- 
spiring with foreign officials to flood the 
United States with liquor and narcotics. 
It’s one thing to break your own laws. 
It’s quite another to stand by helplessly 
while mobsmen and venal-minded officials 
sit out of harm’s way and break them for 


| you, and sneer and scoff at your country. 
| It’s not a pretty picture—to watch a lot of 
| international crooks, official and otherwise, 


making themselves rich out of our national 


| impotence to enforce our own laws. 


On the other hand, of course, venality 


| and corruption among foreign officials need 


not concern us. What does concern us 
deeply is the wholesale undermining of our 
own processes of government through the 
corrupting inroads of bootleg money into 
practically every agency of enforcement 
which has to do with prohibition. 

There has been much talk about cor- 
ruption in prohibition. There is no gain- 
saying its prevalence during the early days 


| of Volsteadism, nor the fact that it still 


exists, though in continually lessening 
degree. 

Most of the graft is a heritage from the 
past with which reorganized enforcement 
has to cope, but for which it is not respon- 
sible. 

Take smuggling from the sea. At the 
outset most of the illicit liquor really was 
smuggled. Then, coincident with the tight- 


| ening of the Coast Guard and Customs, 
| came the great denatured era, the wholly 


unforeseen problem of industrial alcohol. 
But sea smuggling has a romantic tinge, 
and the booze that comes from Rum Row 
still looms largest in the public mind. 


A Large Beat to Cover 


There is a popular belief that everything 
that comes by water must run the Coast 
Guard. Much liquor gets through in other 


| ways, however. Transatlantic liners bring 


a lot of stuff that is smuggled, some of it 
through Customs and some of it landed 
secretly after the vessel has been officially 


| unloaded. And the coasting steamers that 


do not have to clear or enter at all, but who 


| proceed urbanely from port to port, picking 


up a nice wet cargo far out at sea, perhaps, 
and discharging it in harbor unmolested 
and sometimes under the actual protection 
of municipal police--these, too, contribute 
their share to the pay-as-you-enter system. 

The Coast Guard has 6230 straight-line 
miles of coast to protect, and a total sea 
area of 1,469,000 square miles to cover. 
Their seagoing equipment consists of 
twenty destroyers, thirty-three cutters, and 


August 14,1926 


206 patrol boats. If these 259 boats moved 
around our coasts at equal intervals, there 
would be one boat for every twenty-four 
miles. But of course they can’t do even 
that. They have to picket, they have to 
move in and out, and patrol their areas in 
depth as well as on a straight front. The 
sea area averages 5650 square miles a vessel. 
The entire United States Navy couldn’t 
wholly stop rum running under these con- 
ditions. 

But back again to bribery. A few Coast 
Guard crews and so-called Captains have 
been arrested lately, and the papers and the 
politicians have been fulminating about 
corruption. Much of this, as we have said, 
is present discovery of past conditions. But 
the Coast Guard is out of luck in another 
way, and for a curious reason—the great 
American habit of pinning titles on every- 
one. 

In this title-craving land any man even 
momentarily in charge of something that 
floats is a captain. You say ‘‘Good morn- 
ing, Cap’n,” to the lobsterman as he sculls 
past you in his dory, just as you say “‘ Good 
morning, Cap’n,”’ to the beribboned Sir 
Thingumbob on the bridge of a liner. 


The Coast Guard’s Record 


In the Coast Guard every bo’sn or petty 
officer in charge of a patrol boat is Cap’n 
pro tem.; and especially is he Captain to 
the newspapers if he and his crew run afoul 
the law. But he’s not an officer for all that, 
and no more a captain in grade than is an 
army sergeant a captain when he marches 
his company to mess. There have been 
Coast Guard crews and Bo’sn Captains 
arrested lately, charged with accepting 
bribes, but no American officer—and there 
are 270 in the Coast Guard—has yet been 
accused of improper dealings with the 
enemy. 

A few weeks ago the Coast Guard was 
asked to furnish a report on the number of 
its personnel who had been charged with 
corruption. The following excerpts are 
from a letter of the Commandant of the 
Coast Guard accompanying that report: 


I am very pleased to give you any informa- 
tion regarding the operations of the Coast 
Guard. You desire to know the numbers of 
officers and men who have been found guilty of 
misconduct occasioned by the work of the 
Coast Guard in combating liquor smuggling. I 
have personally gone over exhaustively all of 
our court-martial cases of personnel involved in 
misconduct of this character since the Service 
took over this duty. I would invite your at- 
tention to the extremely small number of der- 
elictions in a force totaling 10,581 officers and 
men. With respect to our commissioned offi- 
cers, not even a breath of suspicion of miscon- 
duct has ever been suggested against any one 
of them, nor, indeed, against the regular 
warrant officers of the service. I would invite 
attention, too, to the prompt and heavy pun- 
ishment imposed by Coast Guard courts-mar- 
tial in every case of misconduct. 

When there is considered the determined and 
unceasing efforts of agents of the liquor smug- 
glers to weaken the morale of the Coast Guard 
men, it seems to me that the insignificant per- 
centage of 10,000 warrant officers and enlisted 
men who have been found guilty of such mis- 
conduct is really remarkable, and indicates that 
the standards of conduct of the Coast Guard 
that have characterized it for 135 years have 
had their influence upon the large number of 
new men who have been taken in and who are 
unfamiliar with the traditions of the Service. 


And the following high lights from the 
report itself: 


Authorized personnel strength of Coast 
Guard, officers and men 

Number of individual cases 

Number of separate occurrences 

Number of commissioned officers in- 


10,581 
13 
12 
volved 7 None 
Number of regular warrant officers in- 
volved 
Number of temporary warrant officers 
involved 7 
Number of enlisted men, permanent, 
involved 
Number of enlisted men, temporary, 
involved 25 


None 


11 


Typical offenses and sentences run as 
follows: 
SEAMAN, TEMPORARY, FirsT-CcLAss. While 


on picket boat received money to allow rum 
boat to proceed. Six months imprisonment. 


Continued on Page 150 

















i} AUTHORIZED SALES AGENCY 


FEDERAL 


0. TIRES 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 




















The blue agency sign outside the 
door and the blue pennant on the 
tire inside offer the best combination 
to insure your tire satisfaction. 
The Federal agency sign denotes 
a dealer of a standing which can 
only be acquired through experience, 
ample facilities, up-to-date methods 





~~ = 








E 
R 





and merchandise of real worth. 

The Blue Pennant trademark in- 
dicates the best value that can be 
built into a tire and a product that 
is naturally associated with a high- 
grade tire merchant. 

The Defender Cord is low priced, 
but it is Federal built. 


| <> 





THE SATURDAY 





Good Buildings Deserve 
Good Hardware 


\ 








af 


po 8 SE ‘ 
To the outsider looking in, 


Good Hardware—Corbin— 
says “Keep Out.” 


Sturdy Sash Fasteners of solid brass or bronze 
that will not give an inch. Cylinder Locks that 
admit no one save their owners. Staunch Bolts 
to bar intruders. Strong Night Latches to guard 
the unprotected door. 





Each made for your protection and made as only 
Good Hardware—Corbin, is made: to look well, 
to work well, to last long. Whatever your building 
need may be there is a Corbin answer to it. 


Sh wy SINCE NEW BRITAIN 
p. A F.CORBIN 1849 CONNECTICUT 
The American Hardware Corporation, Successor 
New York Chicago Philadelphia 





| picket a suspected schooner. 





EVENING POST 


(Continued from Page 148) 

BOATSWAIN’s MATE, First-CLAss, TEMPO- 
RARY. Participated in theft of liquor from 
seized vessel. Nine months imprisonment. 

BOATSWAIN, TEMPORARY. Illegal transpor- 
tation of liquor and receiving money therefor. 
Six months imprisonment. 

BOATSWAIN, TEMPORARY. Smuggled liquor 
ashore on patrol boat. One year imprisonment. 


Analyze the report further, and it boils 
down to this: The number of individual 
Coast Guardsmen found guilty is approx- 
imately four one-hundredths of one per cent 
of the total personnel. In other words, four 
or five men out of every 1000 have been 
proved corrupt. That, on the face of it, is 
an astonishingly good record, and one that 
would stack up pretty well with 1000 men 
drawn at random from any class in the 
community. The public ought to appre- 
ciate this, especially in these days when 
everyone, both in and out of Congress, 
would have us believe that every other man 
connected with prohibition is crooked. 

Why then the prevalent belief in the 
well-nigh universality of corruption? Sev- 
eral reasons—chief among them, perhaps, 
the unfair but wholly human tendency of 
wet politicians and press to seize upon any 
discoverable weakness and magnify it a 
hundredfold. And there is another point 
to set down, in fairness to the probability 
that the offenses for which these men were 
punished were not isolated instances. In 
many cases they undoubtedly represented 
only the discovered and culminating act of 
a series of corrupt practices. 

Now a very few men, in a very few boats, 
can let through a fearful volume of liquor 
before they are caught. Chapman hanged 
for other crimes besides the murder of 
which he was convicted. A few rotten-egg 
seamen can sully the reputation of an en- 
tire Coast Guard base, and unfairly tarnish 
the scutcheon of an entire service. 

Now—having given the Coast Guard its 
due—let us see just where and how the 
bribing was done when it did occur. 

The Coast Guard is the first point of as- 
sault. Assume again that our perfectly 
organized but imaginary bootleg ring is op- 
erating. Cap’n Ben, of our smuggling de- 
partment, has a pretty good line on the 
Coast Guard personnel in our sector. Our 
intelligence section reports to him periodi- 
cally, and he knows just what individuals 


| and what crews to approach. 


Wholesale and Retail Protection 


When Cap’n Ben has a schooner to un- 
load he has her take position where she 
will be intercepted or picketed by one of the 
patrol boats that has been fixed. Ordi- 
narily the guilty patrol boat need do noth- 
ing affirmative. Sometimes she need only 
let Cap’n Ben know her movements, so 
that when her back is turned the contact 
boats may load up and dash for shore. 


| Sometimes the erring patrol boat will be 


forced by orders from the base to find and 
Then it’s 
harder to let her unload without exciting 
suspicion. But it’s been done, and ‘more 
than once. More than once has a Coast 
Guard destroyer dashed up to a rum 
schooner picketed by a patrol boat—to find 
absolutely nothing wrong that you can put 
your finger on—-though a few minutes be- 
fore, the speed boats were rushing away 
into the night—and a few minutes later, 
when the destroyer has passed on her way, 
they will be back again for further loads. 
What price bribery under these circum- 
stances? Anything from two to ten dollars 
a case, depending on the amount of assist- 
ance rendered. Five a case would be a fair 
average price for the ordinary act of omis- 
sion—that is, keeping out of the way and 
assuring a clear coast. The work is so well 
systematized that crude acts of commission 
are seldom necessary. The guilty patrol 
boat tears around fiercely and reports 
everything in sight except the schooners it 
is paid to protect. And the contact boats 
slip up to the schooners, and slip back and 


| unload at the docks which Cap’n Ben con- 
| trols, at a rate of two dollars a case to the 


local sheriffs and the village fathers. 


August 14,1926 


In a big ring like ours Cap’n Ben doesn’t 
handle the sordid cash payments himself. 
He has a lieutenant who is known as the 
pay-off man. It is this gentleman’s duty 
to slip around his circuit every week or ten 
days and take care of his pay roll—piece- 
work payment to the crooked crews, royal- 
ties to the village constabies, and a weekly 
stipend to any spies he may have in the 
shore organization. 

Furthermore, the pay-off man must be 
constantly cultivating new fields of cor- 
ruption, to have them ready against the 
need. Our own ring, for instance, has such 
a strangle hold on protection in our sector 
that we actually charge the small independ- 
ent competitors a royalty of two dollars a 
case for everything they land in our terri- 
tory. We buy protection by the mile and 
sell it by the case. And sometimes the little 
fellows just drop it overboard--as witness 
the classic practice of the Southern run- 
ner who used to tie his bribe money to a 
phosphorus-painted buoy and fling it out 
into the night when too hotly pursued by a 
patrol boat. 


Men Without a Price 


When we once get ashore bribery prac- 
tice expands and ramifies. To insure its 
alcohol supply the manufacturing depart- 
ment of our ring must bribe or take into 
partnership denaturing plants and the 
storekeeper gaugers in those plants. In rail 
shipments we may have to look out for the 
yardmasters. And we surely have to take 
care of the police in order to maintain our 
chain of speak-easies. We bribe Federal 
employes to give us tips, to suppress evi- 
dence, and to issue fraudulent permits; 
and we suffer them to shake us down for 
protection. Bribery, blackmail and cor- 
ruption are the commonplaces of our busi- 
ness. 

Most of the bribery and attempted brib- 
ery is directed against the staffs of the 
district administrators. Each of these or- 
ganizations is virtually supreme in its own 
domain. They have the power of granting 
or refusing all withdrawal, manufacturing 
and denaturing permits, and the inspection 
of all cereal-beverage plants— which is Uncle 
Sam’s euphemism for the near-beer makers 
who are cheating on the side, as 90 per cent 
of them do. 

The administrator, then, is the direct en- 
forcement man of the district. Theoreti- 
cally he controls every source of interior 
manufacture, distribution and sale. Of 
course this control looks a little thin, even 
on paper, when we remember that he has 
one enforcement man for every 39,000 of 
population. The chief trouble occurs with 
the underpaid subordinates—the agents, 
the clerks, the storekeeper gaugers——all the 
rank and file whose annual wage is under 
$2500. Small wonder that some of these 
succumb to the temptation of thousands, 
and oftentimes for no more than turning 
their backs or answering a question on the 
telephone. But here are some actual in- 
stances, though the names, of course, are 
fictitious. 

The Baldino Bros., of New York, ap- 
proached the local administrator with a 
gentlemanly proposal involving 800 barrels 
of warehouse whisky. They offered to pay 
him $500 a barrel, or a total of $400,000, if 
he would issue withdrawal permits. The 
administrator absent-mindedly consulted 
Washington, and was told to go as far as he 
liked. So he accepted $20,000 in cash, didn’t 
release a barrel, and sent the jovial brothers 
Baldino to jail for two years. 

And here’s what an $1800-a-year agent 
turned down. He had just brought in a 
Pennsylvania brewery caught cheating 
with high-powered beer. He had the in- 
criminating beer samples in his hotel room 
Came to him the official fixer, or money- 
man in the vernacular, and offered him 
$10,000 for the samples. Nothing doing. 
Bid raised to twenty, to fifty, and finally to 
$100,000 in cold, hard cash. But the agent 
kept the samples and the brewery was put 
out of business. The further history of this 

Continued on Page 153; 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


THE CHALLENGE of an August Day. 
Blue-hung hills snuggled in green, and 
down them and through them and wind- 
ing around them a magic road like a 
silver river—fit fora swan. But remem- 
ber—that perfect road is wot perfect. It is 
full of unseen, nerve-tearing jiggles and 
jars, that you couldn’t take out even if 
you tried to use sandpaper and furniture 
polish. For that reason the wise motorist 
of today insists on Hassler Stabilizers to 
stop the bobble and gallop of his car. 


ROSE RT HH. HASSLE 


ao Gen 
assle 


ms 


I 


N 


Gs 





(@ HA‘ SSLER®) 


“STABILIZERS: 


I 


A 
- + 
7 


rs 


N 


D 


Hasslers’ popularity is most logical. They 
never have to be adjusted and never get 
loose or rattly. Hasslers are completely 
sealed in a metal case that bars all grit and 
moisture—any Alemite service station 
can lubricate them in a jiffy—therefore 
they last for the life of your car. Hassiers 
come in individual models for all popu- 
lar makes of cars and can be obtained 
either from the dealer who sold you your 
car or from Hassler installation and dis 
tributing stations everywhere. 


iN A ? 





Watch yourself when next you iron. 
When the iron gets cool, you press down 
to make up for the lack of heat. That’s 
needless effort. 

Watch yourself now after you’ve con- 
nected the cord and the iron gets quite 
See how you tend to pull it 
See how you hurry to avoid 
All this, wasted effort. 
the time the ironing’s 


hot again. 
away. 
scorching. too, is 
You feel it by 


done. 
This tron watches itself 


\ Westinghouse Automatic Iron is al- 
ways _ right for ironing. You attach 
when you’re ready for work and 
the iron heats up quickly. Before it can 
get too hot, it turns itself off automati- 
The cord remains in place, but the 


iron ceases to heat. 


the cord 


( ally. 


Then, a few minutes later, before it can 
become too cool, it turns on again. 

If you’re ironing, you go right on with 
your work. No needless pressing down, 
The iron keeps 
condition. You 
Not a bit of current is 
Only enough is used to 


keep the iron at the best temperature. 


or lift ing up, or worrying. 


itself in ironing can for- 
get about it. 


wasted, either 


Never too icR: / 


[1¢ and it's 
OFF 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


estinghouse 


© 1926 W E & M. C 


Automatic 
ron 


August 14,1926 


You can forget this fear 
There’s another thing you can forget, 
too, and that’s the fear you have now that 
you'll go away sometime and leave the iron 
connected. \f you happened to leave this 
iron for days, on your return you'd find it 
exactly as you left it-—just right for ironing. 
The Automatic Iron is the wonder iron 
the iron with the “million dollar ther- 
the iron that has banished worry 
and care from millions of women’s lives. 


All for only $7.75 
So tremendous is the demand for Auto- 
matics that the price is now $7.75—with- 
in only a few cents of that of irons with- 
out the Automatic feature. Besides, the 
Westinghouse has a larger ironing surface, 


mostat’”’ 


beveled streamline base, cool, comfortable 
handle, and a heel rest. It surpasses any 


value in the field today. 


Write for “A Little Guide 
to Better Ironing” 
Tells how best to iron each garment. Gives 
suggestions that speed ironing, improve 
the work, and preserve the fabrics. Send 
to Westinghouse Electric & Manufacturing 
Company, Mansfield, Ohio, for a copy. 


Never too cool / 


ick: 


and it's 
ON 











(Continued from Page 150) 
particular agent is not available; doubtless 
by now a grateful Government has raised 
his pay $100 a year. 

Another case. This time the attempt was 
to bribe the New York chemist in charge 
to report high-powered-beer samples as 
containing less than one-half of one per 
cent of alcohol. The chemist listened cour- 
teously to the proposals, while a representa- 
tive of the district attorney's office lay 
curled up under his desk. The bribers are 
now thinking it over in Atlanta for three 
years. 

But usually the breweries don’t let it get 
to the knock-off stage. Their protective 
associations believe in bribing early and 
often. The best method is to fix the police 
first at, say, fifty dollars a week for patrol- 
men, then the local inspectors at $100 a 
week, and so on up until they run into a 
snag of incorruptibility. 

The booties are highly adaptable in their 
methods of corruption. The business prob- 
lems of each ring vary, and they meet 
special conditions as they arise. They have 
only one fixed principle, which is that every 
man is reachable at some price. They go 
after everyone, no matter how remote the 
connection. They put plants in the govern- 
ment offices to furnish leaks and tip-offs. 
They use women as well as men. 

A few years ago some brewery interests 
corrupted a stenographer in the Washing- 
ton offices. The lady had rather carelessly 
piled up a bank balance of more than $6500, 
which was going some, even for a Wash- 
ington stenographer. She was detected, 
and finally confessed that she had been 
stealing papers and giving tip-offs when a 
brewery was to be raided. The lady turned 
state’s evidence, and the brewery-ring rep- 
resentative was convicted of bribery. 

But the cleverest leak artist of all was 
the confidential employe who used to make 
his alibi in advance. It went something 
like this: 

“Chief, there’s been a bad leak some- 
where and X knows we’re after him. I want 
you to give me access to the X files, and 
I think I can run it down.” 

“Fine,” says the unsuspecting chief. So 
the employe goes to the X files, gets every- 
thing he wants, and then goes out and sells 
it to Mr. X himself! No one suspects the 
employe, because he was the very one who 
announced it. A new principle in knavery 
to predict a crime, and then commit it with 
impunity! This chap was something of a 
genius; he is still in Atlanta, however. 


Twenty Miles From a Big Haul 


In all these stories it was the criminal 
who finally came off second best. But oc- 
casionally the Government gets beautifully 
let down. One administrator in a district 
which shall be nameless had been after a 
certain big bootie ring for a long time. The 
administrator had his own pet stool in the 
secret councils of the enemy organization. 
The stool had time and again proved his 
loyalty to the Government by turning in 
quite a series of minor bootleggers. One day 
the stool telephoned that the big ring was 
going to pull off a really big job that night 
going to land 22,000 cases at a certain river 
port twenty miles inland. 

The administrator went happily to work. 
He rounded up every available man and 
every car in his whole outfit, and mobilized 
them at the point of attack. He called up 
the Coast Guard and implored them to drop 
everything and send a whole young battle- 
ship squadron upriver. Then he proceeded 
to the theater of war and made his disposi- 
tions with great care. 

Nothing happened. At least, nothing 
happened upriver. But twenty miles 
away—down on the shore now stripped of 
its defenses—the big ring landed its 22,000 
cases in undisturbed tranquillity. 

Which brings to mind another pleasing 
bit of technic. This time it is from a certain 
border locality where apparently the sher- 
iffs and deputies do their sheriffing when- 
ever they can spare time from bootlegging. 
It works this way. The deputy grabs a 














bootleg car as it crosses the border. 
handcuffs his man to the wheel and has him 
drive to the city. If they happen to meet 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


He ! 


some honest official, the fact of a bona-fide | 


capture is obvious. If they don’t meet any- 
one the deputy has a ready-made shake; 
and he doesn’t unlock the cuffs until his 
victim comes across with the cash. 

The most deftly organized fixing and 
shaking, especially when substantial sums 
are involved, is carried on through a go- 
between known as a collector. This lends 
arelative degree of safety tothe transaction; 
since the middleman, being a crook him- 
self, is unlikely to squawk against either 
the sending or the receiving crook. In cor- 
ruption there is a certain security in num- 
bers, provided the numbers aren’t seen 
together. The usual tariff allowed a collec- 
tor is 5 per cent of the gross turnover. 

Of course there are many other ways of 
passing money. In one instance two dis- 
honest employes both had access to the 
same Office safe several times a day in the 
course of their work. It was an easy matter 
for one to leave the money where the other 
could find it. And in larger transactions, 
where the person to be bribed is overtinicky 
or timorous, he may find himself winning 


very steadily and very largely at poker, or | 


on the races, or in the stock market. Or 
the money may be salted away for him in 
some foreign country, against the time 
when he retires, or gets out of prison, as 
the case may be. 


In a Bootie’s Budget 


Extortion is the half brother of bribery 
a little meaner and a little safer. The un- 
derworld, with its thoroughly Victorian 
distaste for calling an evil thing by its true 
name, always speaks of extortion or black- 
mail as “‘shaking.’’ The police don't call 
it anything. They just do it. 

There are two kinds of shaking—straight 
and wildcat. And there is that diverting 
by-product of extortion which is known as 
the silent shake. This consists of refusing 
or delaying the doing of some perfectly 
proper ministerial act, such as signing a 
permit, until you have been paid for it. It 
has sometimes been used against perfectly 


reputable applicants. It’salmost impossible | 
to detect or to prove, because at worst it is | 


only a sort of delayed pass. 

Straight shaking itself is nothing more 
than the time-honored practice of taking 
money in exchange for protection. It is as 
orthodox as crime and as old as law itself. 
The police have always grafted off vicious 
resorts and they always will. Bootlegging 
has simply provided a new and tremen- 
dously rich field in which to practice ex 
tortion. And the grafting prohibition agent 
merely swells the ranks of dishonest official- 
dom, neither better nor worse than his uni- 
formed brother, the cop. 

Take a simple illustration. Assume that 
I am a distributing bootie who is running a 
cabaret in one of the large cities. I am 
getting my liquor on credit direct from the 
big cutting ring, but I have my own capital 
tied up in the plant and fixtures. I have 
been running about a week when the cop 
on the beat drops in and tells me to come 
on over to the station house. We adjourn 
to the hallway, where we adjust the matter 
for an honorarium of fifty dollars and the 
understanding that he will call once a week. 
I enter the transaction in my little book. 

Three days later another cop drops in, 
and I drop another fifty. I put it down in 
my book. I go out and walk down the 
street and run plumb into a gold-braided 
sergeant who also hails from my precinct. 
The Sarge accosts me coldly and remarks 


that he has orders to close my joint. We | 


finally agree that the orders can be for- 
gotten for $100 a week. I put it in my book. 

I return to my speak-easy feeling a little 
wabbly in the pocketbook, but cheered by 
the sight of a free-spending new customer 
who has just ordered a quart of imitation 
champagne after polishing off a couple of 
denatured highballs. When the check is 
presented the free-spending customer ten- 
ders a government shield in place of money. 











































































ve E i 
hy AAP AY ‘ 
They’re Everywhere! 

I'll have one of those NORTHEASTERS on 
my car before another week if I have to 
back to town to get it 

Oh, you won't need to leave us for that. You 
can get one here I'm sure. You sec them on 
sale everywhere now. 


The Horn That Lasts 


r The Nor THEASTER with its vitrant, authoritative 
and instant response is the last word in warning signals 
Ic is buile with the characteristic ruggedness that has 
made Nort East the standard for dependability and 
long life in the automotive equipment field for over 
fifteen years [- 
Manufactured by the NortH East Etectric Co 
Rochester, N.Y. Distributed throughout the world by 
NortuH East Service INC. Rochester-Atlanta-Detroit 
Chicago - New York- Kansas City-San Francisco- Paris 


London-Toronto 
= 


a8) 
~ 








= 









STARTING - LIGHTING + IGNITION - HORNS ¢ FRACTIC 


* SPECDONETERS 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 














Hair must be healthy—free from dandruff 


to look well-groomed 


Is your hair thick and 


strong-growing? 


ANDRUFF is an actual scalp 


infection. Thinning and re- 
ceding hair are caused by the slow- 
ing down of circulation in the scalp. 

If unchecked, either of these ills 
will finally lead to baldness. 

Yet these ills can be entirely 
prevented and can, in most cases, 
be overcome even when long 
established. 

; 


And the method is very simple! 


EVERY MORNING moisten hair and 
sé alp grene rously Ww ith Ed Pinaud's Eau de 
Quinine. Just shake the bottle with its 
convenient shaker top, over your head 
Then with the fingers pressed down firmly, 
move the scalp vigorously in every direc- 
tion, working the tonic thoroughly into 
every inch of the scalp. Comb and brush 
your hair while still moist. It will lie 
smoothly just the way you want it. 


This simple daily care destroys 
dandruff infection and keeps the 


oe 


scalp circulation vigorously active, 
nourishing the hair at its very roots. 
Your hair will stop falling out and 
start to grow again with greater 
vitality than ever before. 

The difference in appearance 
after even a few days of this treat- 
ment will astonish you. 

Kept up regularly, this simple 
treatment will restore your hair to 
health and make it thick, strong 
and vigorous. 

Make this care of your scalp as 
regular a part of your morning 
toilet as brushing your teeth. 

You will find Ed. Pinaud’s Eau 
de Quinine in all drug stores and 
department stores. Look for the 
large vertical signature of Ed. 
Pinaud in red oneach bottle. Pinaud, 
Incorporated, 90 Fifth Avenue, 
New York City—sole distributors 
for Parfumerie Ed. Pinaud, Paris. 


ED. PINAUD'S Eau de Quinine 





The 


I sit down wearily to talk business. 


| prohibition agent is considerate enough to 


promise that he, too, will see me every 
week. This makes $400 all told. 

By this time I am beginning to think 
regretfully of the quiet, uneventful life I 
used to live as a second-story man. But 
it’s too late. In comes another cop, a new 
man on the beat. At this I finally blow up 
and insist on going to the station house 


| rnyself. I lay my story and my little book 
| before the captain. 


He agrees that it’s a 
shame and that anyone can see I’m not 
doing enough business to stand $500 a 
week, and why didn’t I come to him to be- 


| gin with before I opened up, and everything 
; will be all right from now on for a little 
| matter of $300 a week between him and 


me, and he to take care of all the boys 
except the prohibition agent, and bad cess 


| to him. 


And so it goes. What has been written 


| is neither unusual nor exaggerated, but a 


commonplace diary of graft. Big liquor- 
selling resorts sometimes pay tribute to the 
powers that prey running into thousands. 

All this was straight shaking—that is, 
the extortion of protection money by regu- 
lar officers and agents in their own baili- 
wicks. This is a recognized and accepted 
item of overhead in the budget of the law- 
breaker. But wildcat shaking is different. 

The wildcat shaker is a roving free lance 
who works in his off hours and strikes any- 
where. He is the off-duty cop who puts his 
shield in his pocket and shakes down speak- 
easies outside of his own precinct. He is the 
prohibition agent who does the same thing 
outside of his recognized territory. He is 
the motorcycle cop who holds up carloads 
of booze. And sometimes, and worst of all, 
he is the ex-cop or ex-agent or the plain 


| crook who uses a stolen shield and success- 


fully impersonates an officer. There’s many 
a hard-working, graft-abiding bootie who 
could save himself a lot of worry and 
money if he could find out just who was 
entitled to blackmail him. 


Nine Taken and One Well Shaken 


There was a famous pair of prohibition 


| agents in a Western city a couple of years 


back who really made shake-down history. 
These men were excellent agents, with 
splendid records of arrests and convictions 
to their credit. Also they were very clever. 
They were honest nine times out of ten, 
but—oh, my, how they did make money 
the tenth time! Their regular procedure 
was to turn in nine little fellows and shake 
down one big fellow. 


August 14,1926 


Now this choice pair, whom we will call 
Tom and Tony, had been collecting $3000 
a week protection money from a trio of 
really big joints. But they got into a finan- 
cial row with the owners of the joints, and 
determined to bring them to terms by pull- 
ing off a real raid and seizing a huge stock 
of liquor which they knew was stored in a 
subcellar. 

So Tom and Tony drove ostentatiously 
up to the cabaret with four trucks—two 
belonging to the Government and two of 
their own. This, by the by, was the cele- 
brated 50-50 split which made these men 
famous—the little trick of raiding a place, 
turning in half to Uncle Sam and selling 
the other half to rival booties. Well, they 
drove blandly up to the door with their 
trucks, marched inside, followed by their 
bodyguard of gun-toting plug-uglies, and 
announced that they were taking the joint 
and that no fixing could be done. 


Double and Triple Cross 


But their double-cross was met with a 
triple-cross. There had been a tiv-off. Hard 
on the heels of the raiding plug-uglies came 
six gentlemen with sawed-off shotguns in 
their hands and murder in their hearts. 

Everybody in the joint ‘went up’’—and 
the highest-stretched hands were those of 
Tom and Tony. And the shotgun squad 
went through the more-or-less-government 
gang and stripped them to their last nickel. 
Tony gave up $3400 in bills. Tom lost 
everything except a diamond ring which was 
frozen to his fat finger. The guerrillas de- 
bated biting off the finger, but Tom pleaded 
so pathetically that they finally let him keey 
it. It was dog eat dog with a vengeance. 

And there was the case of But why 
goon? Bribery and corruption, blackmail 
and protection—part and parcel of prohi- 
bition, just as it is part and parcel of every 
form of vice or statutory crime which is 
condoned by any considerable element in 
society. 

But there are two things which the pub- 
lie should ponder on: First, that prohibi- 
tion corruption, great though it may have 
been in the past, is steadily and demonstra- 
bly on the wane—in any case it is neither 
better nor worse than all the other forms of 
politico-police corruption under which this 
country has been struggling for generations. 
And the next thing that the public should 
ponder is that real whisky used to cost 
about a dollar and a half a bottle. The 
other three or four dollars is what the pub- 
lie pays to corrupt its own servants and to 
enrich an ever-growing criminal class. 

















HOTO. BY JOMNSON'S STUDIO 


A Scene in Bitter Root Valley, Montana 















THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


‘MASON 


BALLOONS 


are now sold by thousands of 
tire dealers—more than double 
the number selling Masons one 
year ago. This steadily grow- 
ing favor among dealers merely 
reflects the ever increasing 
demand among car owners for 
| tires built with Hylastic cord— 
| an ——— oe a 


# Hylastic Cord is made e ely from a special, carefully selected, 
tough and sinewy cotton. "he is spun exc lusivel ny in Mason's s own 
mills mage Mason's directions and to Mason's ndards. It is this 
Hylastic Cord that makes every Mason ballo » fle sible that 
it eves maximum co omfo yor <a so 0 tough ps sinewy that it 

endures con t flexing to thousands and tho ids of mile 


BUILT WITH 


| 





















THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 





“Really, I was like the shifting sands, 


whirling, changing, confused.” 
“What stopped you?” 


“Well, the short of tt 1s Dr. Lyon’s—no 
medication, no confuston—and 


cleaner teeth.” 








7” * 
Dr. Lyons 
TOOTH POWDER 
DENTAL CREAM 


No Claims to Cure. No Confusion. 


Cleans Teeth Safe/y. 


Tooth Powder is now 





——— 





COUNTER ATTACK 


Continued from Page 27 


“Don't let that worry, you I'll lool 
after all that. But are you as good as I've 
been told?” 

“‘Mister,’’ said Maddock, with justifiable 
pride, “I’ve collected damages in every 
state and territory. I guess I'm as good as 
there is. But the insurance companies is 
gittin’ onto me and business ain’t what it 
used to be. I got to go in for the smaller 
stuff.” 

“Huh! Let's see your act.” 

Maddock strutted a little. ‘‘Jest gimme 
a shove,” he said with some vanity. 

Palmer pushed him violently. Maddock 
fell to the floor and lay writhing, his legs 
and an arm strangely, disturbingly dis- 
torted. Marty bent over him with ex- 
ploring fingers. 

“He can do it,” he said with satisfaction. 
“‘Those are dislocations all right.” 

“They've fooled insurance examiners 
from coast tocoast,’’ said Maddock. “ Here, 
you"’—to Palmer—‘“‘ketch hold here and 
yank.” 

The joints slipped back into place and 
the accident faker got to his feet and stood 
in the attitude of one waiting for applause. 
“‘T guess there ain’t many in my class,”’ he 
said. 

“You'll do. . . . Put him to work, 
Mel, and tell him what he’s got to do.” 

Mr. Palmer convoyed Maddock out of 
the office, and, in a secluded spot, amplified 
his instructions. 

‘“‘There’s a lawyer here the boss is gunnin’ 
for. Git the idee? You throw one of them 
accidents of yourn and get carted off to the 
doctor. Then you call this Lawyer Hope in 
to take your case. See?” 

“T got you that far.” 

“He starts suit against us. Then we get 
to you, understand, and you make an 
affidavit Hope cooked the whole thing up 
and brought you here. We'll fix up more 
evidence of it. You and Hope was to split 
the damages fifty-fifty.” 

“Sure! I git all that. But how about 
my get-away?” 

“Leave it to us. We protect you. Then 
we get this lawyer disbarred for bein’ a 
crook.” 

“Kind of neat,”’ said Maddock. “It’s a 
more genteel job than I been on before. I 
kind of like to deal with gentlemen. It 
ain’t like always dealin’ with them shyster 
accident lawyers that won’t split fair with a 
man.” 

Mr. Maddock was set to work on the 
peeler, which is an enormous drum into 
which pulp bolts are fed in order to be 
divested of their bark, and Mr. Palmer re- 
turned to the office. 

‘“‘Anythin’ else?” he asked Marty 
Rooney. 

“Caucus is in three weeks,” said Marty. 
“See any signs of trouble?” 

“Not any.” 

“*How about this First Voters’ League, or 
whatever they call it?” 

“Don’t look like anythin’,”” Melvin said 
with a shrug. ‘‘Nobody’s behind it. It’s 
jest boys playin’ around. They aim to git a 
place with a pool table and sich.” 

“Um—maybe we better let them have 
the use of the old mill downtown. Better 
have them with us strong.” 

“*T’ll look into it,” said Mel. 

“The main thing this election,” Marty 
said, “‘is that bond issue. We've got to pass 
that.” 

“For two bridges?’ 

“Te. 

“This town don’t need two new bridges 
any more’n a cow needs two tails.” 

“I do,” said Marty succinctly. “Those 
two bridges will save me twenty thousand a 
year in hauling alone.” 

“Have to git ‘em then,” said Melvin. 
‘Lemme see, only taxpayers kin vote on a 
bond issue.” 

“Right, and that sews it up for us. How 
many voters in this village?” 

‘“*Six hundred and twelve registered.” 
“*How many taxpayers?” 


“Tl figger a mite over four hundred.” 

“Um. How many new votes this year?” 

“Well, there’s the boys in the mill. We 
got about fifty-odd around twenty-one or 
two. And in the town maybe fifty more.” 

“Say a hundred; and, of course, we lose 
some off the old list.” 

“Folks moved away, and them that’s 
quit their jobs and sich.” 

“Well, we can swing that all right. Two 
hundred votes will carry a bond issue. And 
practically none of these First Voters are on 
the tax rolls.” 

“Hardly any of ’em is qualified to vote 
as taxpayers.” 

“Nothing to worry about then. Go 
ahead as usual.”’ 

“Briggs is out for justice of the peace.” 

Marty Rooney smiled. 


imi 

T WAS some three days later that Caleb 

Hope was asked to call at one of Luxor’s 
boarding houses to interview a_ possible 
client, a man named Maddock who had 
been injured while working on a peeler at 
Marty Rooney’s mill. Caleb found the 
man groaning in bed. It appeared that 
both knees had been dislocated and that 
possible internal injuries were present. 
Rooney, making claim the accident was the 
fault of Maddock’s carelessness, refused to 
make any settlement. 

Caleb interviewed the physician, an old 
practitioner whose character was above re- 
proach, and was assured the injuries were 
genuine. Dislocations had been present 
and symptoms pointed to internal injury. 

Although Caleb was no more prepossessed 
in favor of Maddock’s teeth than another 
might have been, he undertook the prose- 
cution of the matter and duly filed his 
action. Mr. Melvin Palmer might have 
been seen that evening evidencing satisfac- 
tion; indeed, he was so pleased with himself 
that he took the liberty of calling at Marty 
Rooney’s home to receive the commenda- 
tion he felt was his due. Mr. Rooney was 
not at home, though expected momentarily, 
but Phidias Plumm, county supervisor and 
general political manager for Marty, was 
there to keep an appointment with his 
principal. The pair sat upon the piazza, 
and because they followed the same line of 
endeavor with the same commendable 
objects in view, there was no secrecy be- 
tween them. 

“Well,” said Melvin with justifiable 
pride, ‘‘I got a good job finished up today.”’ 

“‘Anythin’ I’m interested in?”’ 

“Probably will be before she’s cleaned 
up. It’s that young lawyer feller that talks 
like a lunatic.” 

“‘He ain’t a lunatic, from all I kin gather. 
Folks is sayin’ he’s smarter’n a steel trap, 
though lazy.” 

“Terrible melancholy lookin’,”’ said Mel- 
vin. 

“Can't allus jedge by the looks,” said 
Phidias. ‘“‘I knowed a cross-eyed feller 
once that could read a cribbage hand as 
quick’s the next one.” 

“T kind of cal’lated he was too smart to 
stay round,” Melvin said, taking what 
credit was to be had for sapience. ‘So I 
been contrivin’, and now it’s skedaddle or 
bust for him.” 

“No! Put you on that kind of a job, and 
I dunno where’s your equal.” 

“The least that happens to Hope is 
gittin’ disbarred.” 

“And that’s wuss’n jail to a lawyer, 
hain’t it?”’ 

“Teach folks not to meddle,” Melvin 
said virtuously. ‘I can’t tell even you jest 
what I contrived, but it'll stick, and he 
won't never know what struck him. You'll 
know it when it comes off.” 

“And I cal'late I'll recognize your hand- 
writin’,”’ said Phidias. 

‘“‘About the neatest thing I ever done,” 
Melvin admitted. 

““You didn’t really ketch him in suthin 


crooked?” 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


1) ae 
ED 


a 


*“1nn, I’m in love 


too ch irming for words 








NATIONAL STEEL FABRIC COMPANY ‘\ 












syne 


with these walls of yours. That rough finish to the plaster is , 
Isn't it a shame that they won't always be so nice?’ “Oh 
Underneath there's a reinforcement of steel the same as in our ¢ 


he’s smart about getting good things.” “Indeed he 
nal } 


tain bright June day when he got a certain lovely y wh s always ? 


HERE is no great secret about keeping 

plaster walls and ceilings from cracking 

and falling. There is no trick to it, either 
It is simply a matter of reinforcing the plaster 
so that it cannot crack or loosen and fall. 

Do it this easy way. Nail P-Tiwo-Fourteen 
National Steel Fabric direct to the joists and 
studs, or to the old work. Over this base apply 
the plaster in plain or troweled finish, white or 
tinted, as vou like. And there it is—no secret 
or trick at all; just reinforcement. 

No more cracks. No more falling plaster. So, 
of course, your walls and ceilings will always 
be good looking 

Mail the coupon. It will bring vou complete 
information and illustrations that show how» 


nice, as Ann said. 
7 


easily you can obtain permanently good look 
ing interiors. 


NATIONAL 
jJ-STEEL FABRIC 


———— --———-- 


\ 


os lr Tr B ; Pittsburgh. Pa 
P end me informat rding Reit P 














SATURDAY 





The Little Gan 


that holds a 
core of Spares 


PDUNCTURES and blow-outs, like rain drops, seldom 
come singly, and one spare is often not enough. 


But with a can of Las-Stik in your tool-box you'll be ready 
for the emergency when your spare is in use and you have 
another flat. 

Without heat, special tools, or appliances, you can quickly 
and permanen!ly repair any puncture, or blow-out with Las- 
Stik, even those long splits along the inside seam of the 
tube. Simply clean around the hole, apply a thin coating of 
the Las-Stik liquid gum, and put the patch in place—in 
three minutes by your watch the job is done. 


Made of pure rubber, Las-Stik stretches with the tube and 
won't creep or pull loose. The heat of the road fuses and 
welds it so that it is as much an integral part of the tube as 
any tire shop repair. 

Put aecan of Las-Stik in your tool-hox today. Then, like your 
liability or fire insurance it will be there when needed 
you il never walk or ride on the rim because of tire trouble. 
Che 50 cent package contains enough material for many 
emergencies. Packed in the red and blue metal can, Las- 
Stik keeps fresh indefinitely. At your dealer's or by mail. 


7 
ae FN ecover 
(Spe) 


pply a t Slap on the patch and the 
gum job is done 





{ 


} fk 


4 























Las-Stik Casing Plaster 


ing breaks there's nothing like the Las- 
ising Plaster. It is made of three thick- 
of casing material to reinforce around the 
and a thick cap of uncured white gum to 
ip the hole. The pressure of the road forces 
im into the break and the heat of travel 
t into place. In three sizes for half inch, >. 
id larger holes, 25, 50 and 75 cents & 


THE LAS-STIK PATCH MFG. CO., Hamilton, Ohio 


Jos. St. Mars, Ltd., Toronto and Winnipeg, Can. 





a 
UT: el a | 


PATCHE PLASTERS 





steam engines 


| mind 
| instant. 


| whisked past the hotel. 


EVENING POST 


“Him! From all I kin find out, he’s too 
blamed honest to git along good. But 
folks’ll credit it after this here comes out. 
No, sir, that young feller’s done for good.” 

“‘Hain’t no other way to handle sich a 
situation,” said Phidias. 

“He fell into it jest like an apple into a 
basket,” Melvin said pridefully. 

“You allus was a shrewd one,”’ admired 
Phidias, “‘and this here Hope ain’t easy to 
bamboozle, neither.” 

“Hush! Here comes Marty. Mum’s the 
word.’”’ Mr. Palmer did not desire his em- 
ployer to debit him with a ball-bearing 
tongue. 

As Marty mounted the porch, smiling his 
greetings, Seena Rooney arose unostenta- 
tiously from the davenport just under the 
window where Melvin and Phidias had 
gossiped. She slipped quietly out of the 
room and upstairs, where she seated herself 
in a comfortable chair to reflect. 

Seena was a spoiled young person, and 
willful. The world was her apple at which 
she nibbled at will and then threw away a 
generous core, but for all that, nothing ailed 
her mental processes. She had not meant 
te be an eavesdropper, but the mention of 
Caleb Hope’s name had arrested her. He 
interested Seena. Everything about him 
interested and puzzled her. It is true she 
despised him as she never had despised any 
other young man, and felt herself firmly 
justified in doingso. But he was funny. 
That was her word, and by it she did not 
mean humorous. He was a queer hat. That 
was another of her descriptions, and she 
was honestly curious to know what was the 
matter with any respectably aged male 
who did not surrender without battle to her 
charm. 

But if she despised Caleb Hope, she 
loathed Melvin Palmer. There was some- 
thing crawly about this employe of her 
uncle’s, and she never had been at pains to 
conceal it, as she was never at pains to con- 
ceal anything. 

Curiously enough, she thought in a con- 
tradiction of terms. She said she despised 
Caleb, but she did not find him despicable. 
Not as she found Melvin despicable. This 
Hope person had atrocious manners and no 
conception of the way to treat a young lady, 
but there was something about him. 

She wondered if he ever smiled. Of course 
he was awfully tall and thin, but there was 


| asort of distinguished look about him. She 


nodded at that. He had the look of an 


| individual. 


But this was carrying her far from the 
context. Apparently Melvin Palmer had a 
grudge against Caleb and was scheming to 
get even. Caleb was honest. Melvin had 
accused him of that as if it were a blemish. 
But he was to be given his choice between 
flight or prison—so Seena understood it— 
or disbarment as an attorney. 

She was an imperious young person, care- 
less of the rights of others, and selfish by 
training and environment, but she thought 
straight and had a tender code of honor all 
her own. She had constructed her own 
philosophy out of her own reflections added 
to ample reading—much of which was ro- 
mantic. She doted on costume novels of 
slender sword blades and chivalry. Indeed, 
she was a highly complicated mechanism, 
but lacking in that device so important to 
the governor. 

There was no question in her mind as to 
whether she would do something about it; 
she always did something about everything. 
Her brief hesitation was as to what to do. 
And most of that time was taken up not 
with the previous question but with specu- 
lations upon the occult character of the 
nonadmiring Mr. Hope. As soon as she 
found a second’s leisure she made up her 
and put on her hat at the same 


Two minutes later she was driving her 
car furiously down the hill toward Caleb’s 
office. The door was closed and he was not 
there. She knew where he lived, and 
He was standing 
on the sidewalk. Seena drew up with a 
slam and a skid. 

“Get in,”’ she said imperiously. 


August 14,1926 


“To what purpose?" asked Caleb. 

“Get in at once,” she said. 

He lifted his eyebrows, but 
Seena hurled in her gears and careened up 
the road. 

“If your object,” said Caleb, “is may- 
hem, there is a telegraph pole.” 

“Bestill!’’ she snapped. “I’m thinking.” 

The look of melancholy which sat upon 
his rather fine features deepened until it 
became one almost of profound grief, but he 
held his tongue. Presently she slowed down 
and Caleb drew a relieved breath. 

““Somehow,” she said abruptly, 
made a fool of yourself.” 

**A man may make a fool of himself in so 
many ways,” he complained. ‘I have 
omitted one or two.” 

“IT suppose you'd like to be disbarred,” 
she said. 

A tiny crease appeared between his eyes 
and vanished, but he did not look at her. 

“You might go on from there,” he said, 
“unless you feel that is a complete observa- 
tion and covers the subject.” 

“It doesn’t even scratch the surface,” 
she said. ‘‘ What have you done today that 
you can be disbarred for, or sent to jail?” 
“Ts it a conundrum?” 

“Tf you're not a complete idiot, you will 
see I am serious.” 

He made no reply, but his silence was in 
the nature of an apology. 

*T’ll tell you what it is, and that’s that,” 
shesaid. ‘Anyhow, I loathe Melvin Palmer. 
He crawls.”’ 

“With a wriggly, wriggly motion,” said 
Caleb. 

“T heard him boast just now that you 
must either run or bust,’’ she said. ‘‘He 
can have you disbarred. He's contrived 
it —that was his hateful word. And 
that’s all I know.” 

“It's quite a lot of knowledge,”’ Caleb 
said. “A great deal of knowledge. And 
where did you hear this?—if I may ask.” 

“He was talking to Phidias Plumm on 
uncle’s piazza.” 

“Of course,” 
was not there.” 

“Certainly not. Do you think Palmer 
would have dared to mention such a sneak- 
ing underhanded thing in uncle's presence?” 

““Miss Rooney,” said Caleb, “I think 
you'd better drive me back, or let me out 
here. May I ask why you tell me 
this?” 

Her eyes snapped. They were black eyes 
and their snapping potentialities were 
abundant. 

“‘T don’t like you. I never shall like you. 
I never want anything to do with you— but 
I hate anything sneaking.” 

He dropped his chin on his chest and 
whistled between his teeth until she 
quivered with irritation. 

‘“Miss Rooney,” he said presently, 
don’t like you either. I really don’t 

She interrupted imperiously, ‘‘ Why?” 

‘For a variety of reasons—one of which 
is that you are offensively pretty. I don't 
like pretty girls. But what I was 
about to say 

“Why else don’t you like me?” 

He sighed. ‘‘Because,”’ he said, ‘‘ your 
manifestations are so gummed up with 
ego.”’ He checked that off on his finger. 
“Because you ramp around so.” He 
checked that off. “‘ Because you ride whang 
over other folks. In short, Miss Rooney, 
because you are a spoiled brat—if you get 
what I mean.” 

“TI do!”’ she said savagely. 

“But what I wished to say 

“T don’t care what you wished to say.” 

" was that, in spite of these several 
and doubtless incurable defects, I’m dog- 
goned if I don’t admire you to beat the 
band.” 

In that instant he was a different indi- 
vidual, different in face, in voice, in speech 
a curiously boyish and appealing individual. 
It was as though he laid down a mask for 
an instant and then whisked it on again. 
She gasped. 

“And,” he said, “I’m grateful to you. 
Good evening.” 

Continued on Page 161) 


obeyed. 


““vou've 


Caleb said, “‘Mr. Rooney 








NYBODY under twenty 
will tell you that mu- 
sic isn’t music unless 





you can sing to it, 

dance to it—or play it yourself. 

Youth wants to do things. 

Perhaps that explains the 
popularity of the Gulbransen 
Registering Piano with the 
young folks. It gives them the 
kind of music they like. 

When they play it they get 
all the thrill, all the enjoy- 
ment of hand playing. It is a 
perfect accompaniment for sing- 
ing. Itisrea/ music for dancing. 

It makes home interesting. 

The Gulbransen’s special, 
patented Regstering feature enables you to 
control its playing. To register precisely 
your individual touch, your expression, 
your feeling. This is true of the Gulbransen 
alone—the only piano of its kind in the 
world. And that is why it is the largest 
selling piano in America today. 


°° nt 
syable 


TI 


either by hand 


Betow reare five upright Registering », 


vodels, playa 
» bev ty, $450; Suburban 
; ; 


, E530; ¢ $615; House 


$700; Colonial, $5 


sliustrated untry Seat, 


f,,)) 
Xu 


Hi , $440; Sty le 


2 ” 
There are three stze Gulbransen upr 


Style §, $350; Sty 


hand on ly 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


a 


Every boy and girl 


knows this 


| Some parents don’t] 


the Gulbransen 
It will 
help to make your home a place where 
young folks love to gather. It will draw 
home ties a little tighter. And you can 
so casily own onc! 

There is a complete line of Gulbransen 
Pianos, including the Registering Uprights 
and Grands, played both by roll and by hand; 
Straight Uprights and Grands, played by 


Your children will find 


a never ending source of delight. 


Ass at 


({ULBRANSEN 


aoe es ee Oe 


FREE BO 


Our new strated 


hand only; and Smal! Uprights 


for hand playing. Several mod 


cis 

are illustrated on this page. 
Each Gulbransen Piano rep- 

resents the utmost value in tonal 


ponsive action, and 


beautiful appearance. Each bears 
1 


, 
bit 


quality, res 
the personal guarantee of t 
maker of 


protection 


r 1% 
t BLLLG 


world’s larges 


pianos. For your 


1, 
il 


Tt 


} 
{ 


stamped on the back at th 


instrument 1 


le price Of cac S 


factory. 
A small cash payment will 
Piano in 


put any Gulbransen 


your home. Subsequent pay- 
ments tO sult your CONVenIcNnce 
Allowance will be made for your 


present piano or other musical instrument. 


tainments 


y G 


OK of E 


nter 
Book, ‘Good Tin with 


ty (rulbeansc 














THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


[or fen years General has 
sailed d straight in its course 
on calm seas and rough-- 
> piloted always by a 
belief in ils original policy 


——_ 


- settled on the solid foundation of public confi- 
» dence it becomes an incentive to progress and 
-an obligation too great to ignore. 


i € , That is why the original idea on which this com- 
S&S pany was founded has become more and more 


a conviction. It is the reason there is no temptation great 
enough, no exigency sufficient to turn this company from its 
course, its steadfast policy of never tampering with quality. 


It is the reason that in a brief period of ten years General 
has gained its outstanding position in car owner preference 
and quality leadership in the industry. 


Today, when car owners have a watchful eye on quality, 
General stands out among tire values—fortified by a known 
policy and a record of service that has proved its ultimate 
economy to millions by giving almost unbelievable mile- 
age, comfort and safety 


he 
GENERAL 


TIRE 


a ae 


It’s the second 10,000 miles . that makes the big hit 


BUILT IN AKRON, VA, BY THE GENERAL TIRE AND RUBBER COMPANY 








5 
id 
\ 











(Continued from Page 158 

Before she could do more than turn her 
head, he had leaped from the car and was 
walking rapidly across the road toward the 
fence, over which he climbed to disappear 
in the woods. 

“Well,” she exclaimed, and her cheeks 
were very red, “‘of all things!’ Which, if 
you study and analyze it, was somewhat 
inadequate. 

Iv 

ALEB walked through the woods until 

/ he came to a tree suitable for loafing 
purposes. Under this he sat on a bed of 
pleasant moss and went on a mental ex- 
cursion, which must have been of an ar- 
gumentative nature, because at the end he 
said aloud and audibly, “But anyhow she 
is a brat!” 

Having delivered himself of this senti- 
ment, he got up again, to the disgruntle- 
ment of a red squirrel, which followed him 
during the remainder of his stroll, swearing 
at him and calling him very irritating 
names, and warning all the rest of the in- 
habitants of the woods that here came a 
disreputable person whom all good folks 
would do well to avoid. 

He entered town from the south and 
sauntered down Main Street until he came 
to his office, whose door he unlocked and 
entered, and there at his desk he sat while 
he went over in detail his actions since 
arriving in Luxor, to determine just where 
and when he had placed himself in the 
hands of the enemy. But as he checked 
over his conduct, Seena Rooney, in her 
masterful way, persisted in intruding. He 
threw her out by the heels again and again, 
and then gave in to her. 

“All right,” he said mentally and rue- 
fully, “‘get it over with and then go home 
to your knitting, or whatever it is you do.”’ 
Whereupon he permitted himself to think 
of her for half an hour by his watch, but 
changed none of his conclusions. She re- 
mained a brat, though a gentlemanly sort 
of brat for a girl. And he was sorry for her 
when she should make the discovery that 
Uncle Marty was not the genial, high- 
minded gentleman she believed. ‘“‘She’s 
white, but she’s been painted over with 
doodads and what nots,”’ he said, “‘and the 
Lord knows I haven’t time or energy to 
scrape ’em off and get down to the original 
color.” In short, his conclusion was that 
women didn’t belong. Not that he was a 
woman hater; he was filled only with the 
delusion that he could ignore them. 

Having finished with Seena for the day, 
he took up what he believed to be more 
important matters, with the result that he 
wrote three letters and dropped in to see 
Jinks Baker, president of the First Voters’ 
League. 

“Jinks,” he said, “‘when do you take 
title to the Nelson property?” 

“Monday.” 

‘“*How about that vacant lot next door?”’ 

“Two hundred dollars.” 

‘Buy it for the auxiliary.’ 

“Sure. Say, when kin I tell the 
boys you're back of this?”’ 

‘“*Maybe never.” 

“It'll be a help. They kind of look up to 
you.” 

“Can you find half a dozen of them to do 
me a favor?” 

‘“‘Sure. Who d’ye want bashed?” 

“Nothing so enjoyable. Put a bed in 
the clubhouse Monday.” 

“‘Goin’ to sleep there? 

“No, but I figure on entertaining a 
friend —I think.” 

“It’s done.” 

“T’ll be away a day or two.’ 

‘“We'll keep an eye on things.” 

“T’ll wire if I need anything. Good-by, 
Jinks.” 

“S’long, Caleb.” 

Caleb disappeared from Luxor for four 
days. On his return he found bulky mail, 
which he opened, read with care and, with 
especial attention to the photographs, in- 
closed and filed away in his safety-deposit 
box in the bank. 

Two days later Luxor seethed with a 
story. Charges of fraud had been laid 


’ 


” 








before the Bar Association against Caleb 
Hope by Marty Rooney. He had brought 
to town a professional accident faker, by 
name Maddock, a man who could dislocate 
his joints at will and had earned a living in 
this novel manner for years. This man had 
feigned injury in Marty’s mill and sued for 
damages. A confession had been extorted 
from the man in which he said that he and 
Caleb were to share equally in any sums 
received And Maddock had dis- 
appeared. 

It seems to be axiomatic that out of a 
hundred individuals, fifty-one, to be con- 
servative, will believe a lie and reject the 
truth. You have but to bring against a 
person ora proposition, a charge, no matter 
how false. to gain adherents. So the town 
divided itself, and seethed and battled over 
the matter. Caleb did not seethe or battle. 
He seemed only a trifle more melancholy 
than before. 

On the same day Caleb and Marty 
Rooney received notice that there would 
be a hearing before the committee of the 
Bar Association at the county seat. The 
date did not please Mr. Rooney, because 
it fell on the day of the village caucus, when 
he desired greatly to be present at the 


throttle of his machine. It seemed neither | 
to please nor to displease Caleb. Once he | ¥ 
encountered Seena on the street, to be | 
stopped by her in her imperious manner. | 


“I warned you,” she said, taking the 
high tone with him. ‘Why didn’t you do 
something?” 

“There didn’t seem much to do,” he 
said. ‘‘ Besides,’” he added, “‘this may not 
be the celebration Mr. Palmer referred to. 
Maybe they’ve actually caught me at it.” 

““Nonsense!”’ she said. 

“Thank you kindly,” he said. 

‘Your manners,” she said, “‘are atro- 
cious, but you are honest.” 

“*IT wonder,” he said musingly; and then 
curiously —‘‘ How do you know?”’ 

She lifted her shoulders. “I’ve told 
uncle it was a plot, but he just laughs at 
me. I hate underhandedness. I’m going 
to that trial, or whatever it is, and tell what 
I heard.” 

“No,” he said. 

“T shall. I won’t have such things go- 
ing on.” 

“I’m grateful,’”’ he said, “‘but there are 
reasons. You would do harm.” 

“All the same, I'll be there, and if I 
think best, nobody can stop my telling.” 

“Probably not,”’ he said mildly, and she 
flushed so that she became even more at- 
tractive than before. Then, with chin very 
high, she walked past him and onward 
down the street. 

On the morning of the caucus Caleb held 
a few minutes’ conversation with Jinks 
Baker, president of the First Voters; then 
he was driven to the county seat, where the 
hearing was to commence at ten o'clock. 
Mr. Rooney was there in the courthouse, as 
were Mr. Palmer and divers others whose 
testimony was to be damningly forthcom- 
ing. 

Mr. Everett, president of the Bar Asso- 
ciation, was there with his committee; but 
there were delays and interruptions, so 
that the business of the day could not be 
reached before noon. 

Then, sitting in the circuit-court room, 
the matter proceeded. Testimony was 
taken for two hours; even the affidavit of 
Mr. Maddock, confessing his guilt and 
implicating Caleb, was read without objec- 
tion. It was not a formal trial, but a pro- 
cedure before a Bar Association committee, 
be it understood. Caleb was not fighting 
in his own defense. 

The adverse case was in and Mr. Everett 
turned to Caleb. 

“Young man,” he said, “now is your 
opportunity.” 

“T have but two witnesses, Mr. Everett, 
but I ask that they be heard privately.” 

“For what reason?” 

“T think I am within my rights,”’ said 
Caleb. 

“Very well, sir. Will Mr. Rooney, Mr. 
Palmer and the members of the committee 
step into the judge’s chambers?” 


THE SATURDAY 






EVENING POST 


sS 


.o 7 , 


wt at. Ff 


He could be so attractive 


What was it that kept him socially submerged ? 


ALL slender— good 
features. An interesting 
talker—an excellent dancer. 
Yet somehow he seldom held 
the interest of any girl for 
long. 

He was fairly popular with 
men—but girls would look 
him over carefully and then 
just as carefully overlook him. 


A great many young men 
are inclined to have a grimy- 
looking skin spotted with 
blackheads and dull in 
appearance. Few real- 
ize that this hinders 
their success in life. 
Pompeian 
Cream helps you over- 


Massage 


come this handicap by 
giving you a clear, 
ruddy complexion. 


SPECIAL INTRODUCTORY OFFER 
VY of a 60c jar for 10« 


I if we s¢ | A 
special trial tube 
containing one-third 
of contents of a regu 


lar 60c jar. Contains 
sufhcient Pompeian 
Massage Cream to 
test thoroughly its 






wonderful benefits 

Sompeisn Positively only one 

Ssage (rea trial tube to a family 

1x3 “ on this exceptional 
Soe Pompeo ofter 








Clears the Skin. 
Massage Cream 


Pompeian 
thoroughly 
cleanses the pores. It gets 
down below the surface. Ie 
removes the imbedded dust 
and dirt that soap and water 
miss. It helps to clear up 
blackheads and pimples by 
stimulating healthy circulation, 
and by keeping the skin clean 
and the pores open. 

Easy to Use. After shaving 
or washing, rub the cream in 
gently. Continue rubbing and 
it rolls out, bringing with it 
all the dirt, grime, and 
skin impurities. The re- 
sult is—a clean, healthy 
skin with clear glow- 


, y 
ing color. 

» » > 
Use Pompeian Massage 
Cream regularly at home 
— then ye ‘ll 


4 j j ’ 
benefit. At ali arugeists . 
Dept. D-11, Clevelan« 


© a dir I tor 
Massage Crea 


Gentlemen: | ¢€ 
eral sample of Pompei 


[ 

| THE POMPEIAN LABORATORIES 
! 10 

| 


Name 


| Street 
Addres 


ti get the full 















THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


“Tf guests had wings’ — 
said a weary hostess 


And then she entertained one who had! 


‘HE had had a succession of 
J guests, all very charming peo- 
ple, but requiring a lot of entertain- 
ing. Then came her 
‘*in-laws’’—who 
were the most love- 
able people in the 
world, but they had 
such different ideas 
about life that she 
was quite worn out 
with her effort to 
amuse them. 

“If guests only 

had wings,’’ she 
sighed. 
Then her oldest friend wrote her. 
“fT can’t visit you myself this sum- 
mer, so | am sending you Dicky, the 
sweetest singer of all my canaries. 
You'll And him a most unusual 
guest.” 


a 


ing fo amuse them 


The winged guest 
arrives! 


“At last I am get- 
ting my wish,” she 
laughed. “For be- 
hold: a guest with 
wings!’ 

But she soon 
found that the most 
remarkable thing about her guest 
was not his wings. 

It was his contagious joy. He 
greeted every day, and everyone who 
came into the house, with a song. 


“A guest 


Herdryvx cages finished in 
ubont Duco are carried in 

k in the following shades: 
Old Ivory, Etruscan Bronze, 
Pompe Naxis 
Green, kbony 
shades can 


ired on Special ¢ rder, 


tan Green, 
Persian Sil ur, 
and Gold. Other 


be proc 
i 


re 


A AENDR 


“1 am getting my « 


> “=. REG US PAT OFF 
\ 


His joy was contagious. No one 
could get the blues around him. 
And so one more woman learned 
how much joy and 
contentment a lit- 
tle pet canary can 
bring into the home. 
They are almost no 
trouble to care for 
and any local bird 
store will keep them 
when you are away 
from home. 


His joy was 
conlagious 


Just be sure to buy 
a Hendryx Home for your bird 


The best home for your bird, from the stand- 
point of beauty and comfort, always bears 
the name of Hendryx, for this company has 
designed bird homes for fifty-six years. They 
are priced from $2.00 to $150.00, stands 
from $2.50 to $25.00. 

Almost all bird stores, furniture stores, 
hardware stores, florists and most depart- 
ment stores will show you the lovely new 

Hendryx bird homes in genu- 
ine Pyralin or Duco-finished; 
designed in lovely color com- 
binations to harmonize with 
any type of interior. 


ish,” she laughed. 


with wings.” 


In the Bird Store 


“I do wish that a sweet little girl like that 
would take me home to live with her,”’ said 
the Littlest Bird, after a little girl with can- 
ary-colored curls had just been talking to 
him in the bird store. “I could sing to her, 
and she would talk to me, and how happy 
we could both be!” 

“She has a pet canary now, and he is 
sick,” said the Wise Old Bird. ‘I heard her 
mother talking to the Bird Man, and he 
advised her to buy a new Hendryx bird 
home for him. I am sure that he'll be all 
right now. Nothing makes a bird feel better 
than a pretty Hendryx home.” 


" BIRD 
CAGES 


Since 18569 


Write to The Andrew B. Hendryx Co., 


New Haven, Conn., for a cempli- 


mentary copy of the interesting booklet, “The Feathered Philosopher,” 
and what he taught about life, cheerfulness, human happiness and love. 


ALAR RABE SAA MKRAR AAO 


RBEOCBOEPEBRBEBEE I 





| The little party filed into the judge’s 
office and were seated. 

“T have present two witnesses,”’ Caleb 
| said wearily, “‘but it may suffice to call 
| one.”’ He stepped to the door and called, 
| “Bring him in, Jinks.” 

Then appeared, tight in the grip of Jinks 
Baker and another, the lately disappeared 
Mr. Maddock. 

| Marty Rooney’s color heightened, but 
Mr. Palmer seemed suddenly very uncom- 
fortable indeed. 

“This,” said Caleb, ‘‘is my late client. 
His testimony is not especially credible, but 
I have corroboration if it is required.” He 
turned to Mr. Rooney. “Mr. Maddock 
did not disappear, as arranged. As a mat- 
ter of fact, I have been boarding him for 
some days—against his will, I admit, but 
none the less boarding him.” 

| “Proceed,” said Mr. Everett. 

“Mr. Maddock acted in good faith,” 
Caleb went on. “He intended virtuously 
to vanish. But some friends of mine, 
among them Mr. Baker here, interfered. 
I may say that Mr. Maddock is in a chas- 
tened frame of mind. He has been sleeping 
in the new clubhouse of the First Voters, 
Mr. Rooney. Now to your mutton, 
Maddock.” 

“It was a frame-up,”’ Maddock said 
huskily. ‘That feller there hired me to do 
it. They wanted to git rid of this young 
feller here.” He pointed first to Mr. 
Palmer, then to Caleb. “I got a thousand 
dollars for it.” 

“Here it is,”’ said Caleb, laying a packet 
of bills on the table. 

“That feller’’—again Maddock pointed 
at Palmer—‘“‘hunted me up in Boston and 
hired me.” 

“Likely story,” said Rooney. 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Rooney, it is not 
unsupported,”’ said Mr. Everett. ‘‘The 
Bar Association has had in its possession 
a'l the facts for some time—some days 
before your charges were preferred. Mr. 
Hope communicated with the insurance 
companies, and they returned full informa- 
tion about this man, with photographs. 
Maddock has been under observation. In 
short, it seems Mr. Hope anticipated this 
matter, and instead of falling into the trap 
prepared, became himself the proprietor 
of a snare. A detective of the insurance 
companies is present who saw your Mr. 
Palmer and Maddock in conference in 
Boston. Indeed, Mr. Hope seems to have 
a very excellent cause of action against 
you for conspiracy. I shall be glad to act 
on his behalf.” 

Caleb shook his head. ‘‘There will be 
no actions, either civil or criminal, for ex- 
cellent and conclusive reasons— provided 
Mr. Rooney lets the light of reason shine 
upon him. Otherwise we shall march with 
horse, foot and artillery to battle.” 

“See reason—how?” Marty asked. 

“A signed confession, witnessed by the 
gentlemen present. I have it typed in due 
form.” 

“No!” said Marty. 

“Which,” said Caleb, “I shall preserve 
in a safety-deposit box as insurance against 
another such pleasure excursion. It is my 
desire as much as yours to keep this matter 
private. I agree, and I believe my word is 
good even with you, never to use this con- 
fession unless you move against me again 
in some such way as this. As for my own 
exoneration, the Bar Association will do 
that, and a confession of Maddock's will 
be published in which your name does not 
oceur.”’ 

Marty eyed the young man with some 
bewilderment. ‘‘Hope,”’ he said, “‘it looks 


August 14,1926 


like you’ve got me down. What I can’t 
understand is why you don’t sock me on 
the nose. I don’t make you out.” 

Caleb sighed wearily. ‘I’m not vindic- 
tive by nature,” he said, for it was not for 
such as he to admit that he was holding his 
hand because of a girl—because he felt 
himself bound to spare this man because 
warning of Marty’s plot had come to him 
from Seena. Of this, if he could prevent it, 
she should never hear. 

“Here is the document,” he said, tossing 
it before Reoney. 

“T’ll sign,” said that gentleman. “I 
don’t believe you could get me in this 
county, even as things stand. But I’m 
licked. I sign.” 

The telephone rang. “Call for Mr. 
Rooney,” said a clerk through the door 
Marty lifted the desk phone. ‘‘ Rooney 
speaking. . es What's 
that?’’ He turned suddenly to peer at 
Caleb. ‘Caucus over, is it? Well, 
I wasn’t there, so that’s that.” 

He turned to Caleb. ‘‘ Did you have this 
hearing set for today on purpose?’’ he 
asked, not without a trace of admiration in 
his voice. 

“T figured,” said Caleb, ‘to gather in all 
the by-products.” 

‘I suppose you know then,” said Marty, 
“that Mr. Briggs is nominated for justice 
of the peace.” 

“‘T rather imagined he would be. 

**And the First Voters’ League is parad- 
ing the streets with a brass band and trans- 
parencies with your name on them.” 

Caleb frowned upon Jinks 
‘‘How’s that—-my name?” 

“*T done it,”’ said Jinks, ‘‘and I stand be- 
hind what I done.” 

Caleb lifted his shoulders. ‘ Well,’’ he 
said to Rooney, ‘we'll have some politics 
in Luxor from now on. But no stabbing in 
the back, if you don’t mind.” 

“The boys want you to hurry back,” 
said Jinks. 

Caleb bowed to the committee. “‘Thank 
you, gentlemen,” he said. ‘And I'll be 
going.” 

He walked through the court room, and 
there he came face to face with Seena. 

““What—what happened?” she asked. 

‘*My execution has been postponed,”’ he 
said rather lugubriously. 

“You are vindicated?”’ 

“Why, you see,”’ said Caleb, ‘‘your uncle 
was convinced there was a sort of a queer 
kettle of fish being cooked, and he put a 
stop to it.” 

“I knew he would,”’ said Seena, ‘“‘and so 
you owe it to him.” 

“After what you might call a fashion,” 
said Caleb. 

He passed on, while Jinks Baker eyed 
him furtively, opening his mouth to speak 
every now and then, but closing it again 
without words. Finally he could stand it 
no longer. 

“Is she the reason you let Marty off?” 
he demanded. 

“Jinks,” said Caleb, ‘“‘you’re in the to- 
bacco business.” 

“Sure thing.” 

*‘Do you read Mr. Kipling?”’ 

‘‘No. Never heard tell of him.’ 

“Every tobacconist should read him. 
He wrote a great slogan for cigar stores.”’ 

“T hain’t familiar with it. What is it?” 

““* And a woman is only a woman, but a 
<ood cigar is a smoke,’”’ quoted Caleb. 

“Dog-gone!”’ said Jinks, lost in admira- 

of this sentiment. ‘‘I’m a-goin’ to 
winder.” 

I did not observe that ( 
begged the question. 


” 


Baker. 


in my 


‘aleb had 





SATURDAY EVENING POST 


Nultiplies 
Subéracts 
Oasily 


as tb 


Adds: 


Over 50,000 concerns 
have purchased SUND- 
STRAND machines 
since the new models 
with direct subtraction 
were introduced. 


HERE is no longer any reason for being satisfied with a machine 
which only adds. The NEW SUNDSTRAND subtracts and multi- 
plies as speedily and easily as it adds. Moreover, Sundstrand is Simple— 
only ten keys to operate; Fast—no human hand can tax ————————~—~—~— ~~ 
its speed; Portable—even a girl can easily carry it; Eco- ; °° Roentra tino, USAC 


S.A 
Without obligation we ase send me 


nomical—8 column capacity (adds up to $1,000,000.00) : ortho 
only $125. Model 8024, with full credit balance feature 
in addition to direct subtraction, $150. 


SUNDSTRAND ADDING MACHINE COMPANY 


ROCKFORD, ILL., U.S.A 


BOOKKEEPING, ADDING, CALCULATING MACHINES 


+ FRE E TRIAL 


| Name 








THE SATURDAY EVENING POST August 14,1926 


Watch the trunks— 
off the ships— 

at the stations— 

on baggage trucks— 
why do Hartmanns 
predominate? 

Users know. 
















SS ea 


ee geet 





_ <a 


Now Ready for School— "=n" 
Hartmann Student Specials 





















LL over America, Hartmann dealers are now 
showing Hartmann Student Specials — especially 
designed and built for students’ use. 


They are really unusual trunks—in quality and 
value—convenience and utility. 


Pilfer proof and wrinkle free—they are priced so the 
young folks can own a trunk that is distinctive—a 
real source of pride. 


And long after school days are past, these convenient 
wardrobes will still be in active service. They are 
built to wear—and satisfy. 





I 


The Hartmann dealer in your town—a reliable re- 
tailer—shows these trunks in a variety of sizes, styles 
and finishes. 


It will pay you to see a Hartmann before you buy. 








HARTMANN TRUNK COMPANY, Racine, Wisconsin 


M. Langmuir Manufacturing Company, Ltd., Toronto 
Licensed Canadian Manufacturers 


J. B. Brooks & Co., Ltd., Great Charles St., Birmingham, Eng. 
Licensed Distributors for Great Britain 











One of the Special Student Trunks now on 
display at Hartmann dealers’, everywhere 

















R THE HARTMAN BN R 


E D H E +a UR S&S ¥Y © 





so U Y 




















- es 


Te ee 


Oe ee = 








THE SATURDAY EVENING 


CHANGING JOHNNY’S BEHAVIOR 


Continued from Page 37 


most parents, judges and even the average 
medical practitioners know no more about 
it than they know of the atmospheric con- 
ditions on Mars--there were two common 
methods of dealing with Johnny’s behavior; 
both methods utterly unscientific; both 
failures in working cures, because neither 
bothered its head about causations. One 
method, the most ancient in the world, was 
that of punishment and compulsion. The 
other was that of overleniency and pardon. 
The first is masculine; the second is femi- 
nine. Punish Johnny, or forgive him. Beat 
him, or weep over him, caress him, shower 
him with tenderness. Lock him up, stick 
him in jail, or defend him passionately from 
those inhuman monsters who dare declare 
that Johnny is spoiled, a limb of Satan, a 
menace and a pest. Look around you and 
observe how often one or the other of these 
two unscientific methods has been used on 
the delinquent Johnnies in your town. How 
often have they actually cured Johnny’s 
limp, his antisocial behavior? Sometimes, 
it is true, Johnny has pulled through despite 
the treatment, just as patients are not 
always killed by malpracticing physicians. 
Nature is tough, and it has a strong pre- 
disposition toward health, physical and 
mental, or we would all have gone to the 
bowwows long ago. 

But let us take a typical case, with typi- 
cal treatment, from among those which 
glut the calendars of our juvenile courts. 
Johnny is a bright boy, but what is known 
as a holy terror, a social rebel, a thief, a 
gangster; of violent, undisciplined temper, 
vain and arrogant; a young anarchist, with 
his hand lifted against law and authority; a 
bandit in embryo. He has ‘‘a mad” on the 
janitor who dragged him, fighting like a 
wildcat, from the schoolroom; he lies in 
wait to shoot him up, to make him a 
hospital case. 

Father, a good citizen, has beaten his 
offspring until his strong right arm is lame. 
Mother has wept, prayed, exhorted, and 
secretly fondled her little black sheep. But 
the little black sheep keeps right on his 
murky way. He is arrested for stealing and 
is summoned before the judge. 


The Limp Becomes Permanent 


The father, choked with grief and shame, 
says: ‘“‘Il want my boy to be a doctor, but 
he wants to be a thief.””, Mother sobs audi- 
bly in court. Johnny whispers savagely, 
“Shut up!” He faces the judge with a 
glitter in his eye. The judge, a fine, hu- 
mane man, noting that Johnny is a bright, 
attractive lad, lets him off with a warning. 
He says in effect: ‘‘ Don’t limp any more, 
Johnny. Go home and be good.” But 
Johnny keeps on limping, which is to say, 
he keeps on stealing, playing truant, hiding 
out with the gang and raising hell generally. 
He comes up again before the judge, and 
now the hardening process has set in; he 
has begun to dramatize his toughness. The 
arrest by the bull, the trip to the police 
station, the questioning and detention, the 
public hearing in court, the isolation from 
his own kind, himself the hero of it all 
what a tale to tell the gang! 

This time the judge decides: ‘ Reforma- 
tory for you, Johnny. Now try to mend 
your ways.”’ And he reads him a stiff 
lecture. Johnny goes off sullenly to the 
reformatory. There he mingles with his 
peers—other young Napoleons with drama- 
tizing instincts, who have tried to get even 
with the world—and Johnny receives a few 
more pointers on how real tough guys act; 
he discovers he’s in the kindergarten class 
and hastens to make up his grade. He re- 
turns again and again to the institution; 
he’s an in-and-outer now. His behavior 
patterns become fixed. Not much hope for 
Johnny at this stage. He is by way of be- 
coming a hardened criminal, a repeater. 
Before him loom long years of isolation and 
social ostracism in penitentiary or state 
prison; he is a burden to the taxpayer, a 


menace to the community; gone is his 
opportunity to make a useful or perhaps 
even a magnificent contribution to life. 


| 


Johnny is now a striped animal with a serial 


number, a loss all around. 


And the infinite pity of it is that Johnny 


possessed fine human stuff. His mother, 
weeping bitterly, will tell you what a cute 
little skeesicks he was; how he adored baby 
brother and stole to buy him gifts; how he 
bawled his head off when the street car ran 
over his mangy pup; how for nights he 
sobbed and whimpered in his sleep. Father 
saw the good stuff in him and will tell how 
Johnny took a terrific hiding rather than 
peach on his pals. Teacher saw the good 
stuff in him and admitted he was smart 
enough when he had a mind to be. The 
judge saw the good stuff in him when he 
gave him another chance. And Johnny 
himself, in that inscrutable little heart of 
his, knew he had good stuff in him, but he 
felt he was not getting a square deal and so 
he tried to get even with his foes; but the 
combination was too strong for him. No 
little boy, not even an embryo Napoleon, 
can lick the whole world. There are too 
many adult Wellingtons around. 


Scientific Sympathy 


These two unscientific methods of pro- 
cedure— punishment and its feminine an- 
tithesis of overleniency—represent the old- 
fashioned way of treating Johnny the 
delinquent in his plastic formative years. 
Both methods are based on the false hypoth- 
esis that irregular or antisocial behavior 
in a child is a sin, instead of a signal, a 
sign, an advertisement, that something is 
wrong inside; and acting on this false 





premise, they have proceeded to punish, or | 


forgive, the small offender, instead of re- 
garding him as a patient, diagnosing his 
malady from his behavior symptoms and 
treating him with a view to removing the 


underlying causes which produced the dis- | 


orders in his conduct. 
Summing up the defects of the old sys- 
tem, medical science says: 


“The underlying causes of delinquency | 
in children in the vast majority of cases are | 


misdirected or unsatisfied, fundamental, in- 
stinctive desires—desires for new experi- 
ences, for security, for affection, for response 
or recognition. The question is: How can 
we satisfy these normal instinctive desires 


in harmless or even helpful ways? Some- | 
times in recreation, sometimes in more | 


wholesome home relations, proper adjust- 
ment in school, change of companionship or 
in vocational or recreational lines. Usually 
delinquency is brought about not by one 
but by several causations, and these causa- 
tions may be multiplied and their combi- 
nations extraordinarily varied, so that each 
case must be treated individually. Punish- 
ment which does not inquire into the causes 
of delinquency or maladjustment and seek 
to remove those causes is a failure. The 
behavior patterns become hardened into 
fixity and the antisocial habits more deeply 
ingrained. It has been discovered that 
sympathy without science, in dealing with 
the problem child, means sentimentality 
and futility, while science without sympa- 
thy is cold and blind in dealing with human 
beings. The basis has now shifted from 
compulsion and punishment to scientific 
treatment and adjustment.” 

In other words, Johnny himself goes 
under the microscope, together with his bad 
behavior— his fighting, lying, stealing, and 
temper tantrums. Under he goes, the 
young anarchist, the social rebel, flying all 
kinds of behavior signals, sullen or secre- 
tive or battling for all he is worth; and 
the eye which regards this lively little speci- 
men through the lens is not the punishing 
eye of the law or of ignorant love or vindic- 
tive hate, but the cool, calm, searching eye 
of science, which seeks, first, causations, 
then remedies, in precisely the same fashion 
as if Johnny were a typhoid case. 





POST 165 


~ Architects 
~ Contractors 


~Builders 
~Carpenters 
end 

SILVER LAKE 


Ss. PAT. OFF.) 


SASH CORD 


T'S an indication of sound judgment and an assur- 
ance of permanently satisfied customers — because 
the manufacturers have enough confidence in thi 
Sash Cord to stamp the name “SILVER LAKE” on 
every foot and to guarantee it for 2 





peoom™ 


Vears 





Pare At Hardware and Builders’ Supply Stores 
kag with in str ted d SILVER LAKE COMPANY 
: bg st tly 310 NEVADA ST. NEWTONVILLE, MASS. 


Manufacturers of Solid Braided Cordage 


Silver Lake Sash Cord 


LOOK FOR THE NAME STAMPED ON EVERY FOOT OCF CORD 





ee 99 2 
Good Eats” —the Best Part of the Trip! 
A drive to your favorite mping spot el better grad fr rf line. 
Appetites sharpened by natur thinct ! 
fresh air and sunshine Ar 
eats” You'll have them 
when there's a Coleman Cam] 
A complete little can 
that cooks anything, ar 
Boils, fries, roasts 
No wood to rustle; no 
Easy for anybody to « 


+ - ’ Factory and J. : 4 
THE COLEMAN LAMP CO., G25) Sitices: Wichita, Kansas 
Branches: Philadelphia, Chicago, Los Angeles, 

Qs) Toronto, Canada 


D I 













> 
@ 








Ie 


oe . 


>, 


za 


SSI LISI SSS 


SKS 


SKILSSS 


SLISSLSLS SLL SS 


al ee aaa as 


Jn" er 
ns 


SX 


oO 


A) 


SISASS, 


% 


-* 


a 


LIL KL ILLS IS SS SS 


SX 


| 9 Amereamneaaere 


“1 





The Extter 
Style AG211 


he 





“Business Man 


He has learned to save time. 
Some things, he realizes, can 
be best decided once and for 
all. § He has learned that he 
can depend on the Florsheim 
Crest for everything a good 


pair of shoes ought to be; for 
style; for comfort; for value. 
Most Styles $10 

THe FLrorsHeiM SHOE COMPANY 


Manufacturers = 


CHICAGO 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


And now let us take a glimpse at one of 
these particular units in the field of medical 
science which undertake as their specific 
function the study and cure of the problem 
child. They are called child-guidance clin- 
ics. Established in some of our large 


/ centers such as Philadelphia, New York, 


Ss 


2S, 


SOSSSSOSSOS OSS IIIOOSOIOISO SOOO 


SSSO0SS 


SSOSSSOSOS COS 











A 








SYMBOL 





O F 


Taking Personal 
Motion Pictures 


with 


BELL & HOWELL 


TO 


make this 


The World’s Highest Quality 
MOTION PICTURE CAMERA 


Exclusive Features 


for personal use 


BELL & HOWELL 


Lio 


Dealers in highest 
quality merchandise 
in your city will 
gladly demonstrate 
the superior features 
of Filmo Automatic 
Motion Picture 
Camera and Projector. 





BELL& HOWELLCO. 


1811 Larchmont Ave., Chicago 
New York, Hollywood, London 
Established 1907 








1. 


- 


So BRNAN bY 


— 





o.! 


Write for this 
Descriptive 


Booklet 


The only personal « 


glass viewhnder 


Exclusive Filmo Features 


amera with the spy- 


The only camera with interchanges 
ability of lenses {12 different lenses for 


special purposes may 


e used} 


The only camera with adjustable speed. 
The only design of camera in which you 
can get special mechanism for taking 
s-l-o-w motion pictures 

The simplest camera to operate. 

Takes portraits or “close-ups” without 
extra attachments 

A superior quality Fy.¢ aperture import- 
ed lens furnished as regular equipment. 
Made by the world's largest manufactur- 
ers of motion picture cameras and 
equipment 

The camera owned by the greatest nume 


her of prominent people 


the finest things 
you possess. 


Filmo 


Distinctive. Ornamen- 
al. In keeping with, 
















ia 





Boston, Chicago, St. Louis, Minneapolis, 
St. Paul, Dallas, Memphis and Los Angeles, 
they have already amply demonstrated 
their value in their communities. Speaking 
of their function, E. Van Norman Emery 
says: 

“The child-guidance clinic is a codrdi- 
nated effort to apply scientific methods to 
the study and treatment of problem chil- 
dren. It is an effort to make mental hygiene 
available to children who can be most 
benefited by it, preferably to those who are 


| considered normal and especially to those 


who may be intellectually superior. Our 
aim is not to cure full-fledged diseases, but 
to prevent them. This is a very important 
distinction.” 


Child Guidance Clinics 


“Tt is impossible to enumerate all signs 
of maladjustment, since no two cases are 
alike. Each presents its own problems. The 
outward manifestations in the form of con- 
duct do not always give a fair idea of the 
underlying difficulty. An unobtrusive child 
may be suffering from a most malignant 
conflict. Rebellion against authority may 
be a temporary pose or it may mean a well- 
established paranoiac attitude. The same 
holds true of sullenness, suspicion and self- 
ishness. Inattention at school may be 
caused by innumerable things. Truancy, 
stealing, lying, are apt to be serious prob- 
lems, and bad habits such as temper 
tantrums may offer great difficulties when 
it comes to treatment. Recent scientific re- 
search in many fields has shown methods 
which are proving effective in solving these 
problems. These methods are being used in 
the child-guidance clinics. They are espe- 
cially effective with the normal child, help- 
ing him to develop free and unhampered by 
handicapping conflicts; to function at full 
efficiency in order that his debt to society 
may be paid by attainment of his maximum 
productivity. By this means he gains an 
understanding of himself, a fair chance for 
personal happiness and contentment, and 
the power of general social adjustability and 
adaptability.” «- 

Let us take as an example of this work 
the child-guidance clinic operating in Phila- 
delphia, analyze its personnel and its aims 
and methods of procedure. In the first 
place, the staff is composed of the best mod- 
ern type of scientifically trained physicians, 
psychologists, psychiatrists and social 
workers. No amateurish, superficial or 
pseudoscientific claptrap. No cures by 
mail. No bottles of patent medicine or 
elixir of mental health which promises to 
cure Johnny in three weeks or your money 
back. The problem—one of the most subtle 
and complicated in the world—is ap- 
proached in the true scientific spirit and by 
highly trained and experienced profes- 


| sionals. 


And now, enter Johnny, the recalcitrant, 
the successful young hell raiser, upon the 
scene. Where does he come from? First 
of all, his parents may bring him. They 
may be rich or poor, intelligent or igno- 
rant—though usually they are the latter, 
no matter what their social status, so far as 
comprehension of their own child is con- 
cerned. Listen to what a psychiatrist in 
this clinic has to say upon that point: 

“Studies made in various parts of the 
country report that from 65 per cent to 75 
per cent of children with behavior diffi- 
culties have come from homes in which the 
parental training was markedly at fault in 
some respect. Harsh, disciplinary meas- 
ures, inconsistency and overindulgence all 
have their bad effects on character forma- 
tion. Out of 150 cases studied in Los 
Angeles, for example, 96 per cent revealed 
that parental influence and methods of 
training were at fault and only an ex- 
tremely small percentage had their cause in 








August 14,1926 


poverty and economic pressure. It is not 
only the child who needs guidance but also 
the parents, and this educational phase of 
the work—advising the adult members of 
the family—is extremely important. For 
example, we found cases in which the 
mother, unhappily married, was making 
her son a confidant, transferring her affec- 
tions to him, causing him to bear the whole 
brunt of that emotional disharmony, with 
devastating effects upon his nature. Young 
children should never be made to bear the 
burden of adult emotional or marital strife. 
It is disrupting in the extreme.” 

It is not only the parents who bring 
Johnny to the clinic. It may be the school- 
teacher or some charitable institution. Or 
perhaps the judge of the juvenile court, in- 
stead of sentencing him to the reformatory, 
looks thoughtfully at the young rebel and 
says, ‘‘I don’t like to send you to the re- 
formatory, Johnny. Want to go?” 

“No,” or, defiantly, ‘“‘I don’t give a damn 
what you do.”” Johnny is already dramatiz- 
ing himself. This stuff will go great before 
the gang. “‘ An’ then I says to him, ‘I don’t 
give a damn what you do.’”’ Climax! 

“Well, Johnny,” says the judge, “I do 
give a damn for what you do, and away 
down deep in your heart I believe you do 
too. Anyway I’m gcing to give you another 
chance to run straight. I’m going to parole 
you in care of the child-guidance clinic and 
see what they can do.” 

And a mighty lucky day it is for Johnny 
when that decision is made, for now he is 
up before the bar, not of justice— what is 
justice to this case?—not of prejudice, 
antagonism or hate or that equally dev- 
astating force of ignorant, overindulgent 
parental love, but of modern medical sci- 
ence, which says, in effect: ‘Climb under 
the microscope, Johnny. You seem to be 
running a temperature. Let’s see what’s 
the matter, my boy.” 

So Johnny, sweating a little beneath his 
phlegm, climbs under the microscope. And 
first of all he gets a thorough physical ex- 
amination to see if his body is all right; after 
which come the intelligence and educationa! 
tests, the psychological examination, the 
psychiatric examination, the history of 
his family, his heredity, his relations with 
his school, his playmates —in short, a com- 
plete, all-round picture of him, with the 
hereditary and environmental forces which 
are at work upon him and to which he, 
willy-nilly, responds. If Johnny is feeble- 
minded, a moron or an imbecile, he makes 
his exit right here. 


Stealing for Prestige 


Let us begin with the physical examina- 
tion. Johnny is stripped to the buff. In 
these clinics every resource of modern medi- 
cine is available for the investigation and 
treatment of the child. For it is very sel- 
dom the case that Johnny, the problem 
child, has not something the matter with 
his body also. It may be eye strain, mal- 
nutrition, flat foot, pretuberculosis or some 
chronic infection which is producing an in- 
creased irritability and must be corrected 
before his behavior can be changed. Care- 
ful examination and appropriate treatment 
will often produce remarkable ameliora- 
tions in such a child. 

Johnny, the hero of this tale, was one of 
these big fat slobs, a softy, short of breath; 
weighed almost twice as much as he should 
for his age; ate candy; was vain, arrogant; 
a bully, aliar, athief. He wore an iron shoe 
which prevented him from participating in 
the rough games of his gang; so he got com- 
pensation by bullying little boys; had to 
show his strength, you see; had to prove he 
was a regular guy, even if he did wear an 
iron boot. In order to make up for his fat- 
ness, his physical defect, and maintain his 
stand-in with the gang, Johnny had taken 
to stealing, and with the proceeds he 
treated his pals to sodas and ice creams. 
He boasted what a tough guy he was; how 
he had sassed the judge. The gang ad- 
mired his prowess; he was by way of becom- 
ing a clubfooted little Napoleon of crime. 
Continued on Page 169) 


























oS 





—  —eae eee 















—_ 


—- 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 




















HY IS THE Burlington known among rail- 
road men everywhere as a wonderful training 
school—which has produced ten railroad 
presidents of today, a score or more of vice presi- 
dents and hundreds of officers for other roads? 
Why has ‘‘a Burlington man" become a mark of 
character in the ratlroad world? 
y y ry 
Seck the answer from Frank Knight, now 97, the 
oldest Burlington man. He recounts a dozen inci- 
dents in his 60 years on the Burlington that almost 
cost his life. And then 
‘They were all in the day's work,"’ he muses. 


y y A 


Burlington men are of that stamp. For them it was 
all in the day's work to run a regular passenger 
train from Chicago to Denver, 1,000 miles, for 355 
davs in one year without being late by a single 
minute—a world’s record! 

It was all in the day's work to take over the gov- 
ernment mail on a half day's notice, to operate 
fast mail trains between Chicago and Omaha 
night and day for 42 unbroken years, successfully 
challenging all competition. 


All in the day’s work—to start a troop train to 
the Mexican border in 28 minutes, to conceive and 





Ten railroad presid 
‘Twas a Burlington 














For 75 Years 


The Burlington has completed seventy-five years of successfu 


railroad service. The Burlington has never heen nt 








of a receiver; it has never defaulted on a financta atror 
The Bur ington has counted success as 7 f au 
existence. It knows no other way to provide t 
service the public has demanded and the Bus 

has made its first purp 

| 

| ‘/ 

M« hi Ahatdinw 

| Pr ENT OF THE BuRLts 


put into service the first railway mail post office, to 
use air brakes first on the Burlington, to make the 
Burlington the largest carrier of summer tourists to 
the Rockies, to make the Burlington the largest 


food distributor in the world 








ents can say: 


man” 


Traditionally, Burlington training has developed 
the man. Railroads have emergencies that can be 
handled not by a system but by men. It's the men 
who run it that make a railroad more than “‘a piece 


of paper with a state seal on it,” said James J. Hill 
Sd y r 


Resourceful men, prepared men, stand-on-theit 
» pref 
own men—from pioneer days such have been Bur 
lington men. Today, the spirit that welded an 
2 | 
empire of thirteen states with 11,5 miles of steel 
conquers even greater tasks. In the strength of past 


success new records are achieved 


Now, in the service of the great country they 
helped to build, Burlington men daily win new 
tests of courage—that the business man may open his 
mail ata certain hour, that children may have food, 
that the every dav life of a thousand communities 
mav be orderly 


> 


That 30 million people may depend on the But 


Such men have made the Chicago, Burlington & 


Quincy Railroad uccessful 7s years 





a 
Today, 50,000 Burlington employes serve you with 
pride in that record and with the profit of that 


experience 





THE SATURDAY EVENING August 14,1926 








Master of Every Driving Condition 


Thousands of Speed Wagons are bought below the average of all trucks from 1 to 


every year because of superiorities immedi- 1/4 tons capacity. 4-Cylinder Chassis 


ately obvious to the owner, such as: But many more thousands are bought be- $ 1 90 

aRiepid tundl with eilers, puttion mace cause of what the drivers know and say. Q 

1 miles into every operating year. It’s the man at the wheel—the man who 

Y, nifdiinty nel taal, wltitielibne din travels the routes day or night, year in and 

overloading evil and the undericeding year out, and has first-hand knowledge of 

cost. the rigors of cross-country haulage — who 

—Low initial price. Easily the lowest of has the most profound admiration for 
all 1';-ton vehicles, and more than $800 Speed Wagon performance. 


6-Cylinder Chassis 
Tons Capacity 


Reo Motor Car Company, 











a 


OO ee 





| 
| 
j 





(Continued from Page 166) 

They took him one day to the clinic. 
Johnny was contemptuous. He guessed 
they couldn’t get anything on him. His 
diet was attended to; he began to lose 
weight. His bad leg proved susceptible to 
treatment; he was encouraged to play 
games and run. To his immeasurable de- 
light he discovered that he could, that he 
was even as other boys. His inferiority 
complex and sense of isolation which had 
led him into stealing and bullying as com- 
pensations began to fade as the under- 
lying causes which produced them were 
removed. In the course of time Johnny be- 
came a normal child — not a plaster saint 
just normal. The stone which had been 
pressing down upon him was removed. 

This is a clean-cut case of physical dis- 
ability which produced behavior disorders. 
But in the great majority of instances the 
causations are more obscure, more diverse, 
each adding its special pressure until the 


_ cumulative weight twists the pliant young 


tree of life away from its free, upward 
growth into all manner of distorted or ab- 
normal behavior shapes. 


The Intelligence Quotient 


“Physiological psychology,” says one of 
the leaders of this movement, ‘“‘gave to 
science many tests—tests for all the special 
senses and many of the mental processes — 
and during recent years many new and im- 
portant tests have been accurately worked 
out, so that a well-trained psychologist can 
now give invaluable information concern- 
ing a child’s abilities. In the child-guidance 
clinies very thorough psychological and 
educational examinations are given as rou- 
tine, in order to determine the quantity of 
the child’s intelligence. The results of these 
tests, as all know, are expressed in terms of 
mental age. If, for example, a boy’s score 
shows a mental age of twelve years, it 
means that he has the same quantity of in- 
telligence as the average boy of twelve 
years. When his mental age is compared 
with his actual life age it is possible to ob- 
tain some idea of the comparative quantity 
of his intelligence as compared with other 
children of the same life age. This compara- 
tive quantity is called the child’s intelli- 
gence quotient, or I. Q. Generally speaking, 
children with an I. Q. of from 90 to 110 are 
considered to have a normal quantity of 
intelligence; those below those figures are 
subnormal, while those above are superior. 
In the Los Angeles child-guidance clinic 
the range has been from below 50 to above 
150; the average being considerably above 
100. Great caution should always be used 
in interpreting the I. Q. without an ade- 
quate social history, a complete physical 
examination and a thorough psychiatric 
examination; and the I. Q. should never be 
interpreted without these additional ex- 
aminations in dealing with a problem or 
maladjusted child. 

“In addition to the intelligence and edu- 
cational tests, the clinic psychologist also 
gives performance tests, mechanical tests, 
and tests for determining other special 
abilities or disabilities. Tests of intelligence 
show the child’s native or potential ability, 
but the educational tests show to what pur- 
pose he has used these abilities. They indi- 
cate what he has accomplished. In this 
manner the psychologist is sometimes able 
to discover a dull child who has made better 
use of his intelligence than some very su- 
perior one, and all such information is in- 
valuable in remedying maladjustment in 
school. Suppose, for example, a child who 
is in the fifth grade has already the knowl- 
edge given in the seventh grade and has ac- 
tually sufficient ability to do the work of 
the ninth grade? Of course he is inattentive 
and mischievous in school. Of course he 
plays truant and tries to find more interest- 
ing ways of filling his time. It should be 
noted that a child who is over-age for his 
grade, or who finds himself in a special 
class, often develops a feeling of inferiority 
and discouragement which may react upon 
his work and cause him to drift into con- 
duct disorders.” 


THE SATURDAY 


From the social history made by the so- 
cial worker the clinic learns about Johnny’s 
hereditary predispositions and what the 
persons in his environment think of him. 


From the medical examination the clinic | 
learns what the physician thinks of his | 


body. From the educational and intelli- 
gence tests it is able to size up his mental 
equipment and his powers of accomplish- 
ment. Bit by bit the picture is built up, 
until that little human organism which is 
Johnny begins to emerge with startling 
clarity upon the slide, and the tough, hard- 
boiled little rebel at odds with his world is 
often seen to be not bad or vicious, but 
merely unhappy, cramped in some of his 
vital relationships; perhaps bearing too 
great an emotional burden, fit only for 
adults, and fighting desperately his own 
small battle for normal growth with his 
back to the wall. 

Thus far, you observe, the examinations 
have all been largely objective —a study of 
the various forces playing on Johnny. But 
now comes one of the most important and 
illuminating revelations of all--what 
Johnny himself thinks of his world. And 


until the clinic gets Johnny’s reaction to his | 


parents, his teacher, his pals, the gang, it 
cannot interpret his conduct. 

You'd be surprised to learn he has father 
and mother sized up cold. For while par- 
ents are sizing up Johnny, Johnny is get- 
ting the reverse English on them, and his 
judgments, clean-cut, merciless, are often 
only too true. Johnny sees pop and maw 
or dad and mumsie, according to his social 
rank—-getting away with murder every 
day, with conduct that makes old Beelze- 
bub swing his forked tail with glee; and, 
being the most imitative animal on this 
green footstool, Johnny tries to get away 
with murder too; and even improves on 
the model. Why not? It’s a poor rule that 
won't work both ways. And under the deli- 
cate, friendly yet matter-of-fact probing, 
Johnny yields up the inner secrets of the 
hinterlands of his soul—wistful yearnings, 
differences from other kids, misunderstand- 
ings, antagonisms, adult emotional quar- 
rels, his honest opinions of those two alien 
strangers who brought him into the world. 
In this confessional amazing, horrifying 
situations are often revealed, in which the 
child and parents change place, and Johnny 
the rebel is seen, not as the villain of the 
piece, but the victim of parental selfishness, 
weakness or vice. 


Getting Johnny's Viewpoint 


Maybe Johnny lets out the fact that he 
is an unwanted child. His parents are cold, 
constantly criticizing and punishing; his 
trivial mischievousness is magnified into 
deliberate perversity. Nothing he does wins 
approval. Is it strange that Johnny pres- 
ently begins to live up to his reputation? 
His deviltry at least attracts attention, and 
even unfavorable attention is better to him 
than none. 

The psychiatrist, who is a trained physi- 
cian, endeavors to discover what mental 
twist is causing the conduct disorder 
Probe, probe, probe. Father, mother, 
teacher, companions —-all come on the car- 
pet, as seen through Johnny’s eye. Perhaps 
it is the teacher Johnny hates. She is a 
woman, and he prefers a man. ‘“‘ Women,” 
he concludes largely, “‘ain’t no good. They 
haven't got no sense. They yell and carry 
on and throw fits. When mamma gets mad 
she bites my hands. I hate women. My 
sisters ain't no good neither.”’ The psychia- 
trist does a bit of exploring, reserving his 
judgment. And it turns out that Johnny 
has good private reasons for hating women; 
his experience with them has engendered 
neither affection nor respect. The best 
thing in such a case, unless the woman 
teacher is rare and can be got to codperate, 
is to transfer Johnny to a man. 

Perhaps the festering spot which causes 
Johnny's eccentric behavior--eccentric, 
that is, from a conventional standpoint; 
from Johnny’s standpoint it usually seems 
natural and right— is due to bad compan- 
ions. 


EVENING POST 169 


_ CHOOSE 





LOOSE-LEAF-DEVICES-AND 
ACCOUNTING- SYSTEMS 








Start standardization 
of your record-keep:- 
ing equipment on 
products that em- 
body these three fun- 
damental features: 
QUALITY, UTIL- 
ITY, ECONOMY. 











EQUIPMENT 
FOR THE NEEDS 
| OF SUCCESSFUI 

BUSINESS 





KALAMAZOO LOOSE LEAF BINDER CO. 


Factories at Kalamazoo, Mich., and Los Angeles, Calif. Sales Offices in Principal Cities 


HARRIS TWEED fii. 4 4 EE 


! ekes su 
lengths by post, $2.00 per yd u en fen on stating A REE—Pat | Typewrer Exes t Eras aaa Retail 








shades desired. NEWALL, 265 teetnnwer, Scotland Rue Koo, 50c.). Lf you aliow us toquete and submit sam 
amy TT ies S J 7 ples. No obligation. (1 re buaines: letterhead 
PATENT-SENSE,, '*'ss<s ef 
. . Inventors week | 3° 4 cor CO DAYTON OHIO Se 
g@ largest de- 
served profits. Established 1869. Write CARBON we RS 
LACEY & LACEY, 774 F St., Washington, D.C Pacific Coast Address, 406 South Main Street.Los Angeles, Cal 








Cash! 
- Be Lo r It! 


EDUCT your own big commissions. 
Added bonus paid real workers. 
Weekly salary offered. Working equipment 


ee 









supplied. No investment required. Ex- 
perience unnecessary. Find out today 
about selling some of your spare time. 
You win if you like our plan. If you don’t, you 


lose only a postage stamp! Take the chance. | 
Send This Willing Message NOW! 


Box 1624, ©/o The Saturday Evening Post 
449 Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 


Mail me your offer. I'll look it ov 


Vame {ee 

















170 THE SATURDAY 









oiling 


T=PHILLIPSS 














wer At ol 
THECHAS™ OM LLIPS CHE | 














An Unqualified Endorsement 


’ 


For over fifty years ‘Phillips Milk of Magnesia”’ has had the unqualified 


endorsement of physicians and dentists. 


“Phillips Milk of Magnesia” is markedly efficient as an Antacid, Laxative, 
and. Corrective. 


Always insist upon genuine 
“Phillips,” the original Milk of 
= HILLIPS Milk 
= 
of Magnesia 
Prepared only by 


THE CHARLES H. PHILLIPS CHEMICAL Co., NEW YORK AND LONDON 


Each bottle contains tested 
and proved directions; also 


authoritative list of uses. 








Monogram Radiator Caps 
Everywhere! 


Look anywhere —everywhere—on the cars you pass, and you will 
see MONOGRAM Self-Locking Radiator Caps. 

MONOGRAM Self-Locking Radiator Caps are caps of beauty—utility and 
convenience. They enhance the appearance of the car, are protection against 
theft for both temperature meter and cap, and provide for instantaneous easy 
filling under all conditions. 

The MONOGRAM Cap is made to carry your initial or fraternal emblem 
across its face. They offer you your choice of Standard all-nickel design, 
Royal Onyx design (with ball ends of Mexican Onyx) and Wing design. 


YOUR INITIAL ACROSS ITS FACE 
Gives the Personal Touch 


Prices range from $4.00 for the Standard Junior model to $10.00 for the 
Royal Onyx model. 


Write for literature describing MONOGRAM Radiator Caps 
and MONOGRAM Onyx Gear Shift Balls 


THE KINGSLEY-MILLER COMPANY 


602 W. Jackson Boulevard Chicago, Illinois 





, AN 
]. B. WALDEN, Jr. 
London, Ontario 


? Export Department: 
i is Ad No. 4 N A Cable Address 
Aber 2 . MONOGRAM 
MONOGR. . Canadian Mfg. and 

en -—ORIGINAL— — 


. SELF-LOCKING RADIATOR CAP 


( 











EVENING POST 


“The child learns much at home and 
school,”’ says E. Van Norman Emery, “ but 
it is from his companions he acquires many 
of his traits and habits. Many a child 
shows greater loyalty to his companions 
than to his home. The bond of secrecy 
which surrounds his pranks and expeditions 
must be cautiously pulled aside if we are to 
pnderstand his problems. Here is fre- 
quently found the origin of many difficul- 
ties such as lying, stealing, truancy and bad 
sex habits. 

“Many of the things told to the psychia- 
trist by the innocent lad of nine or ten 
would astound even a calloused adult. 
These are the things of which a child seldom 
speaks and then only to one who he feels 
will try to understand.” 

It is not always easy for the psychiatrist 
to win Johnny’s confidence and get him to 
cooperate. He is suspicious, hard, skeptical 
of friendliness which he believes is a trap in 
disguise—the psychiatrist is trying to frame 
him with the teacher or the judge. He has 
built up a solid wall of protective lying and 
a defense mechanism which are not imme- 
diately to be broken down. He may be 
polite but noncommittal and uninterested; 
or he lies smoothly, smilingly, telling the 
truth only when he sees that the psychia- 
trist has the goods on him; or he is sullen; 
or he flies into a rage and denies everything 
wholesale. 

To give an example: Johnny had already 
been to a reformatory, where, according to 
the reports of his mother, he had been so 
cruelly beaten that he did not recover for a 
week. Unless Johnny puts over a better line 
of conduct, it is extremely likely that he 
will be returned to that same purgatory. 
It is distinctly in the offing as his charm- 
ing future abode. Naturally, he is not 
exactly enthusiastic over the prospect. 
But when asked about the brutal beatings 
at this reformatory, Johnny puts up a stiff 
bluff and declares stoutly that it’s a good 
place. 

“TI like it fine,’’ he lies, looking the 
psychiatrist firmly in the eye. 

“They didn’t whip you?” 

“No, sir!”’ yells Johnny, turning purple. 
“That's a blank, blank dirty lie. Who told 
you that—my mother? She’s a liar. She 
never told you that neither. My mother 
knows it’s a good place. I like it fine. They 
didn’t lick me at all and when they did it 
wasn’t no more than what I deserved. 
You're trying to frame me!” And he bangs 
out of the office, swearing a blue streak. 


Winning His Confidence 


Did you get it-—-Johnny’s little trick? 
No? Well, the layout’s like this: Johnny 
had been brutally beaten; and so his self- 
protective instinct is at work to prevent 
repetition of the same. He believes that the 
clinic, the law, the judge and the reforma- 
tory are all in cahoots. Even his mother, 
alas! It’s the time when a feller needs a 
friend. The clinic, he argues, will turn over 
the report to the reformatory, and when 
they read how Johnny peached on them an- 
other terrific whaling will ensue. To avert 
which catastrophe, Johnny, who possesses 
a good chess mind and can see a few moves 
ahead, is making himself solid with the re- 
formatory authorities in the unfortunate 
event of his return. Ergo: ‘‘They’re fine 
guys!” he lies—and may the Great 
Clinician up in heaven forgive him, for the 
sake of his fine chess mind. 

it is, of course, absolutely essential for 
Johnny to coéperate with the clinic in order 
to work acure. And here is where Johnny’s 
I. Q. comes in. Thank God he has a brain! 
For presently the great idea begins to pene- 
trate—the clinic is not an enemy; it is on 
his side. Do you see what we’re shooting 
at, Johnny, old top? You catch the idea? 
We're not trying to punish you; we’re try- 
ing to fix it so when you grow up you'll be 
sitting on top of the world, doing the stuff 


you like, not biting your fingers in jail. 


Life has something better for you! 

So it’s explain, explain, explain; motives 
and conduct; piecing the grand puzzle of 
life together so it makes a reasonable 


August 14,1926 


pattern young brains can understand; sub- 
stituting for antisocial habits such satisfac- 
tions, recreations and ambitions as will 
strengthen instead of deteriorate. And 
presently the little rudderless ship begins to 
respond to the helm. 

Let us suppose that the study of Johnny 
has been completed. His body, his I. Q., his 
heredity, environment, family and school 
relationships have been thoroughly and 
scientifically charted. What next? Diag- 
nosis and a course of treatment. The 
steepest part of the climb toward normalcy 
is still ahead. 

The responsibility for the treatment falls 
on many shoulders, including the patient, 
his teachers, the clinic staff and others. 
Parental attitudes often need changing. 
This part of the treatment falls to the social 
worker, the psychiatrist or both. The 
clinic’s findings must be outlined and inter- 
preted and the treatment explained step by 
step to the parents. It is not uncommon to 
spend two or three hours at one time on this 
very necessary procedure. The social 
worker assumes responsibility for seeing 
that the physical recommendations are car- 
ried out. She visits the school and enlists 
the teacher’s aid on the educational sugges- 
tions. In the majority of cases the main 
effort in treatment is expended by the social 
worker upon the parents and by the psy- 
chiatrist upon the child. There is no 
magical formula or short cut, but much 
fatiguing and strenuous work. 


Beginning With the Parents 


Since Johnny’s misconduct is very often 
traceable directly to the home situation, 
the first step toward changing his behavior 
is to induce a change of behavior in the par- 
ents. For example, Johnny runs away 
Apparently it is a fine home, parents well 
to-do. He continues to run away, despite 
repeated punishments and arrests. He 
openly prefers the detention house of the 
juvenile court to his own fireside. Why? 
Examination revealed that Johnny’s home 
life was a hell on account of the constant 
quarreling of his father and mother. 
Johnny couldn't stand the shot. The stone 
of his environment pressed too hard. 

When the disastrous effect of the marital 
disharmony was revealed to the mother she 
broke down, confessed she had ceased to 
love her husband, and was chiefly respon- 
sible for the conflicts. She had lied to 
Johnny about his father to win the lad over 
to her side. In short, she was putting 
Johnny through the mill of her own adult 
emotions. When she realized the disas- 
trous effect all this emotional disturbance 
had upon him, she promised to become 
reconciled to her husband for her son’s 
sake. And often such domestic adjustments 
are a necessary preliminary, in order to 
remove the emotional conflicts from the 
child’s life. 

Take the problem of stealing in children, 
an antisocial offense. Stealing is only a 
symptom of deeper, underlying difficul- 
ties in the child’s life. In a dozen cases of 
stealing, no two need necessarily show the 
same psychological motives. Understand- 
ing why one child steals may not be of 
much assistance in learning why another 
does so. 

“‘A long experience with stealing in chil- 
dren,”’ says a psychiatrist, ‘‘reveals certain 
types of motivation which occur. These do 
not exhaust the list of causes by any means, 
but they are worthy of enumeration, be- 
cause they do indicate from what divergent 
sources the same behavior symptoms may 
occur. 

“First, play motives. Children may steal 
as a means of satisfying their desire for play- 
things. One boy stole ten dollars to buy an 
express wagon. Although he was forced to 
sell the wagon in order to return part of the 
stolen funds, he was not prevented from 
stealing again in order to buy other toys. 
Only when he was helped to earn money 
and so acquire a legitimate means of get- 
ting the playthings he desired did his be- 
havior clear up. 

Continued on Page 174) 









AR ee 








em age RR 


vr 





































SMeel Stee! 
Saves Steps 
in BUSINESS too 











THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


ees 





WOrX 9 
























Shaped 
in Steef 


Sheet Steel has simplified housework. 


Cupboards of Sheet Steel provide a 
place for everything from salts and 
spices to mops and electric cleaners. 


Right at your finger tips, too... with- 
out a wasted inch. 


And Sheet Steel table tops in glisten- 
ing porcelain enamel are easily kept 
clean. So are pots, pans, kettles, 
stoves, and cabinets that modern hy- 
giene insists must be spotless. 


Now homes and farms are insisting 
on products made of this better 
material—heating systems, garages, 





Vi is Moitern Kitchen 
does Save Steps 


Sheet Steel furniture reduces polishing 
and cleaning toa moment's work. The 
finish baked on at high heat resists 
the action of smoke, dust, spilled per- 
fumes ... even lighted cigarette stubs 
burn themselves out without a trace. 
Everywhere you will find equipment 
of Sheet Steel saving time and effort 

.. lowering costs... making life more 
Ww worth living. Sheet t Steel | has become 
standard for business, for factories, for 
hotels and institutions 





wall linings, sanitary systems, etc. 


u 


F 


You will be interested in reading fur- 
ther details in the interesting booklet, 
THE SERVICE OF SHEET STEEL TO THE 
Pustic, mailed on request to the SHEET 
STEEL TRADE ExTENSION COMMITTEE, 
Ouiver Buitpine, PittspurGH, PENN. 


wy goons 





EET STEEL 


5. 3.m Vo S 





THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





August 14,1926 






























In the first six months of 1926 


The Country Gentleman 


carried 422,164 agate lines 
of advertising .... the sec- 
ond national farm paper car- 
ried 190,742 .... the third 
159,744 .... and the other 
three trailed along with 
about 100,000 lines apiece. 


This record of leadership 
is further clinched by 
the fact that in June The 
Country Gentleman carried 
more advertising than 
did all the other national 
farm papers, combined. 


The Country Gentleman is the mod- 
ern magazine for modern farm 
families—and every member of the 
family reads it and finds it interesting. 


xeQUNtTy (jentlem 


THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 


INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA 





Advertising Offices: Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, Boston 
San Francisco, Detroit, Cleveland 











Index of Advertisers 
August 14, 1926 


PAGE 
American Chain Company, Inc....... 56 
American Stainless Steel Company ..176 
American Writing Paper Company 124 


Anheuser-Busch 173 
Archers Company, The 138 
Atkins & Co., E. C 145 
Autocall Co., The 113 
Baker & Co., Inc., A. T 96 
Barrett Company, The 1 
Bauer & Black 70 
Bell & Howell Co 166 
Blabon Co., The Geo. W 62 
Brown & Sharpe Mfg. Co 98 
Bryant Heater & Mfg. Co., The 83 
Budd Manufacturing Co., Edward G.. 43 
Buick Motor Company 55 
California Packing Corporation I] Cover 
Campbell Soup Company 31 
Carreras, Ltd. * 71 
Certain-teed Products Corporation... 146 
Chicago, Burlington & Quincy 

Railroad 167 
Chrysler Sales Corporation 115 
Climax Hosiery Mills 91 
Coca-Cola Company, The 133 
Coleman Lamp Co., The 165 
Colgate & Co 54 
Columbia Carbon Co 169 
Columbia Pictures Corporation 120 
Congoleum- Nairn In¢ 38 
Cooper, Wells & Company 132 
Corbin, P. & F 150 
Crescent Manufacturing Co 104 
Curtis Companies, The 122, 123 
Delco-Light Company 4 
Detroit White Lead Works 100, 101 
Dexter Rubber Mfg. Co 131 
Dodge Brothers, In¢ 108, 109 
Durant Motors, Inc 92 
Eagle-Picher Lead Company, The 112 
Elgin National Watch Company 139 
Famous Players-Lasky Corp 67 
Fansteel Products Company, In 175 
Federal Tires 149 
Firestone Tire & Rubber Co 76,77 
Fisher Body Corp 57 
Fleischmann Company, The 121 
Florsheim Shoe Company, The 166 
French Battery Company 141 
Fruit Dispatch Company 105 
Fuller Brush Co., The 110 
Gabriel Snubber Mfg. Co., The 63 
General Tire & Rubber Co., The 160 
Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, 

Inc., The 41 
Guarantee Liquid Measure Co 78 
Gulbransen Company 159 
Gulden’s Mustard 138 
Hartmann Trunk Company 164 
Hassler, Inc., Robert H 151 
Hayes-Hunt Corporation 93 
Hendryx Co., The Andrew B. 162 
Hudson Motor Car Company 68, 69 
Hupp Motor Car Corp : 51 
Independent Oil Men of America 130 
Ingram Co., Frederick I 97 
Insurance Co. of North America 129 
Kalamazoo Loose Leaf Binder Co 169 
King-Seeley Corporation 114 
Kingsley-Miller Company, The 170 
Lacey & Lacey 169 
Lambert Pharmacal Co 80, 81 
LaSalle Extension University : 138 
Las-Stik Patch Mfg. Co., The 158 
Lehn & Fink, Inc 126 
Liggett & Myers Tobacco Company. . 60 
Lyon & Sons, Inc., I. W 156 


PAGE 
Mason Tire & Rubber Co 155 
McLaren-Consolidated Cone Corp 52 
Mennen Company, The 45 
Merton & Co., Charles S$ 137 
Milwaukee Motor Products, Inc 125 
Mueller Co. 87 
Nash Motors Co 119 
National Association of Accredited 
Commercial Schools 137 
National Steel Fabric Company 157 
Newall & Son, S. A 169 
New Haven Clock Company, The 116 
New Jersey Zinc Company, The 136 
North American Dye Corporation 147 
North Bros Mig Co 64 
North East Electric Co 153 
Oakland Motor Car Company 59 
Packard Motor Car Co 27 
Paige-Detroit Motor Car ( ‘ompany 61 
Palmolive Company, The 88, 89 
Parker Rust-Proof Company 103 
Pet Milk Company Ill Cover 
Phillips Chemical Co., The Charles H. 170 
Pilcher Mfg. Co., Inc 147 
Pinaud, Incorporated, Ed 154 
Pioneer Suspender Company 118 
Plate Glass Manufacturers of America 58 
Pompeian Laboratories, The 161 
Postum Cereal Co., Inc 36 
Process Engraving Co., Inc., The 147 
Procter & Gamble Co., The 2 
Real Silk Hosiery Mills 47 
Rees Manufacturing Company 147 
Reo Motor Car Company 168 
Rome Company, The 142, 143 
Schrader’s Son, Inc., A 85 
Scott Paper Company 107 
Sealright Co., Inc. 46 
Seiberling Rubber Co., The 42 
Sheaffer Pen Company, W. A 72 
Sheet Steel Trade Extension Com 
mittee . 171 
Sikes Company 73 
Silver Lake Company a 105 
Simmons Company, The.” 134, 135 
Skinner Automotive Device Co., Inc 49 
Smith-Lee Co., Inc., The 84 
Smokador Mfg. Co. Ine 128 
Snider Preserve Co., The T. A 95 
Squibb & Sons, E. R 90 
Standard Sales Co 137 
Stanley Works, The 148 
Staynew Filter Corporation 94 
Stewart-Warner Speedometer Cor’n.. 75 
Studebaker Corp. of America, The 117 
Sundstrand Adding Machine Co 163 
Swift & Anderson, In 132 
Swift & Company 33 
Three-in-One Oil Company 102 
Timken Roller Bearing Co., The 53 
Todd Company, The 99 
Tork Company 147 
United States Gypsum Company 48 
United States Shipping Board 50 
Universal Pictures 40 
Vacuum Oil Company 35 
Wahl Company, The 65 
Washburn Crosby Co IV Cover 
Watson Company, John Warren 8? 
Wedler-Shuford Company 138 
Westinghouse Electric & Manufactur 
ing Company 152 
Wetmore, Janes & Sugden 132 
White Company, The 144 
Williams Company, The J. B 174 


Wvoming Shovel Works, The 111 


While every precaution is taken to insure accuracy, we cannot guarantee against the possibility 


of an occasional change or omission in the preparation of this index 

















= 





—_——< 









THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 173 

















-_-_—_—— 








| HIS ORDER IS AN EPIC --- 
When Huntington Jones orders dinner an order becomes 
an epic. He knows the palate and the potage, the taste and 
the tarts. He divines all the happiest spots in the realm of 


gastronomy. 


D A L = [) DY The beverage order? It will be Busch’s Pale Dry—always! 


Just the right touch! 
~ Scarlet label ~ - E 


- 


Dinner, luncheon, tea—midday or midnight—no need to 


—_ .. =.- * —_~ > ; 
SAS Sy aie, dwell upon the occasions for this superb ginger ale. It is an 
UL occasion in itself. 


Imported? No. It’s better. 


By appointment? Yes. To the American palate. 


AFA US eB ae. Oa Se ST. t @41-6 .- WS Seo Bm, 





blades! 




















cc 


panes — 


saturated 
your beard far easier to cut. 


Razor blades stay aie longer hesied e Williams 
lather soaks the beard soft making 


Wi LIAMS SHAVING CREAM has won its immense pop- 

arity for a very good reason. It simply does a 
shaving soap’s job just a little bit better than any other 
shaving soap we know. 

First, the rich mountain of quick lather whisks away 
the water-resisting oil film from the beard. 

Then, the enormous amount of moisture held in 
Williams lather simply drenches the beard bristles 


soaks 


Furthermore, Williams lubricates the skin for easy 
shaving 


them soft so the razor just glides through. 


leave S it glo e smooth 
ber’s massage feeling. 

A Real Tip! 
ing Cr 
much as 


gives you that bar- 


‘i he double-size tube of Williams Shav- 
at 50c It holds twice as 
c large-size tube. 


‘eam is a real economy. 


the regular 35 
We want you to try Williams shaves fora week FREE. 


Send the coupon below, or a postcard, and we'll send 
you a free trial tube. 











Quicker shaves! Sharper 


Smoother skin! 





— OFFER ~ 


pany, Dept. 48-A, 
( 
( jiar Ad es L114 si P . M 
P —— tr ent ‘WwW am 
( I Hinge Car 
Hinge-Cap 
can't get ° fddr 


lost 








t 








AQUA VELVA Wei x Cnr oto TET Borie FREE. WaITI 


f 


PREPAR 


DEPT 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





Continued from Page 170 
“*Second, flight from reality. Sometimes 
the stealing is closely connected with the 


| child’s unhappiness in the home situation 


| and his attempts to escape from it. 





One 
child who was neglected by his parents and 
unhappy because he did not believe they 
loved him any more, stole money and ran 
away. When found, the relieved parents 
made a great fuss over him, but this blissful 
moment soon passed and he was neglected 
again. Realizing that he was able to gain 
signs of his parents’ love only by frightening 
them, he continued to steal and to run away 
periodically. 

“Third, adolescent motives. Adolescent 
children often steal in order to satisfy their 
longings for the trinkets and pretty clothes 
which will render them attractive to other 
boys and girls. A sixteen-year-old lad stole 
money from the store where he worked in 
order to buy socks and ties to impress the 
lady of his choice. 

“Fourth, imitation of companions. One 
of the fundamental principles in the psy- 
chology of child education is that the child 
learns by imitation. Unfortunately this ex- 
tends to his less supervised activities as well 
as to those of the home and classroom. The 
boy readily learns to steal if that is one of 
the important activities of the gang of 
which he is a member. 

“Fifth, compensatory mechanism. Some 
children steal because that is the only way 
they can maintain a position of equality 


| or superiority with their group of play- 


mates. 

“An eleven-year-old boy, unable to com- 
pete with his friends in their games on ac- 
count of his obesity, retained the respect 






August 14,1926 


of his fellows, and incidentally his own self- 
respect, by becoming a regular crook and 
boasting of his trips to the juvenile court 
These categories by no means exhaust the 
psychological analysis of stealing in chil- 
dren, but represent merely some of the 
more common motives.” 

It should be added that this brief study 
of Johnny’s behavior applies with equal 
force to girls. But as it has been estimated 
that twice as many boys as girls, roughly 
speaking, are sent to the clinic for behavior 
treatment, either because of a boy’s greater 
initiative, his wider range, greater oppor- 
tunity, or less protection in his leisure 
hours, the emphasis has been thrown on 
the young masculine misdoer. Pardon me, 
Johnny, if I seem to pick on you. I’m not 
trying to frame you. Sister is a frail too. 
We're all in the same boat together, but 
you have to man the oars. 

Speaking of the work of the child- 
guidance clinics, Dr. Frazier, of 
Philadelphia, said: 

“Even if we change the behavior of only 
fifty children in the community, keep them 
out of reformatories and jails and thus re- 
duce the burden of taxation, the high cost 
of criminals, it is an investment worth 
while; and that does not even touch the 
constructive side of the proposition. For 
who knows the magnificent contribution 
some of these children, their behavior dis- 
orders ironed out, may make to society? 
At any rate, the project is as sound as 
bonding a city for roads or bridges. For 
these children are our bridges of the future, 
far more valuable than any monuments of 
mortar and bricks and stone. Shall we not 
bond ourselves for them?” 


George 











THE SATURDAY 


either wholly or in part, 


never authorized. 


(More Than Two Million Six Hundred Thousand Weekly) 


IS fully protected by copyright and nothing that appears in it may be reprinted, 
without special permission. 
quotations from them for advertising promotions and stock-selling schemes is 


EVENING POST 


The use of our articles or 








Table of Contents 


August 14, 1926 
Cover Design by Norman Rockwell 


SHORT STORIES 


PAG 
The Gray Goose— Mary Roberts Rinehart 3 
The Uses of Adversity— Ben Ames Williams 10 
The Terrible Tropics— Richard Connell 14 
Sportsman—R. G. Kirk 16 


A Temporary Millionaire— George Weston 2 
Neapolitan Scream—Octavus Roy Cohen 22 
) 


Counter Attack— Clarence Budington Kelland 6 
ARTICLES 

The Harvest of the Years—Luther Burbank, With Wilbur Hall : = 

Production and Prosperity—/saac F. Marcosson 12 

The Junk Snupper—C. R. Clifford 

Radio— By David Sarnoff as Told to Mary Margaret McBride 24 

What Price Bribery ?— Walton Green 29 

Changing Johnny's Behavior— Elizabeth Frazer 37 
SERIALS 

Sheik’s Clothing (In two parts)— Charles Brackett 5 

Twin Propellers (Second part)—Henry C. Rowland 32 

MISCELLANY 

Editorials 28 

Short Turns and Encores 30 

Getting On in the World 39 

Out-of-Doors 104 














| address label from a recent copy. 





A REQUEST FOR CHANGE OF ADDRESS must reach us at least thirty days 
before the date of issue with which it is to take effect. 
be sent to replace those undelivered through failure to send such advance notice. 
With your new address be sure also to send us the old one, inclosing if po 


Duplicate cx 


ples cannot 





ssible your | 























Balkite Trickle CO harging 


— one of the most important developments 
in the batlery field 


Balkite Trickle Charging is perhaps the most 
important recent development in the entire 
battery field. It makes possible the installa 
tion of a charger and a battery as a complete 
automatic, permanent unit to supply unfail- 
ing Direct Current (DC) from an Alternat- 
ing Current (AC) source. 
In this system a Balkite Charger is perma- 
nently connected to an AC power line and a 
storage battery. It rectifies the AC into DC 
and charges the battery with it. The battery 
supplies the resultant DC to the apparatus to 
be operated. The Balkite Charger being on 
continuous or trickle charge, automatically 
replaces any energy the battery may expend. 
On the other hand if the AC line fails tem- 
porarily, the battery continues to operate the 
apparatus from its reserve. The possibility of 
) power failure is thus entirely removed. 
The advantages of this system are so great 
{ that it is rapidly becoming standard practice 
wherever infallible power is needed. It is 
| now used on the automatic signal systems of 
70 leading North American as well as Euro- 
| pean and Oriental railways. It is also used 
for Telegraph and Telephone work, Fire and 
Burglar Alarm, Time Recording, Emergency 
| Lighting and Emergency Power systems. It is 
n destined greatly to increase the use of stor 
age batteries. Complete data is available to 
engineers on request 


Neage 


SOLE LICENSEES IN THE UNITED KIN 


THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 





perate your radio set 





from the light socket 
|; with BalkiteB” and a Balkite Trickle Charger 


Your present radio set will operate from 
the light socket. Simply add Balkite “B” 
and a Balkite Trickle Charger. No other 


changes are necessary. 


Balkite “B” replaces your “B” bat- 
teries and supplies “B” current from the 
light socket. The Balkite Trickle Charger, 
once connected to your “A” battery may 
be left on continuous charge. It converts 
your “A” battery into a complete light 
socket “A” unit. If you like you may 
also add a switch to cut out the charger 
and turn on Balkite “B” during opera- 
tion, making the entire installation auto- 
matic in operation. 


Both Balkite “B” and the Balkite 


FAN STEEL 


Bal 





Trickle Charger are permanent pieces of 
equipment. They have no bulbs, nothing 
to wear out, adjust, replace or get out of 
order. Their only upkeep is the slight 
cost of lighting current. 


Light socket radio operation means 
maximum convenience. It means also 
that your set wiil always operate at peak 
power. And full power means better 
reception. 


Add these two permanent Baikite 
Radio Power Units to your set now and 
convert it into a light socket receiver. 
Balkite“B? $35. Balkite TrickleCharger, 
$10. Prices slightly higher west of the 
Rockies and in Canada. Ask your dealer. 


ki te 
“Radio Power Units 


4 Manufactured by FANSTEEL PRODUCTS COMPANY, Inc., North Chicago, Illinois 




















176 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 


August 14 1926 


Every‘Test proves this new STAINLESS barrel 














HE. Winchester Stainless Barrel is 

not only much easier to clean and 
keep clean—but it actually increases the 
life of Winchester accuracy indefinitely. 
Powder fouling and rust—these age old 
enemies to accuracy and to the very life of 
your gun barrel —are practically routed. 


This new Stainless Barrel is a marvel. 
Whether on rifle or shotgun it banishes 
the worry that your gun barrel may start 
to pit and corrode before you can really 
get it properly cleaned. Suppose the 
barrel is powder fouled—wet with rain 
or foggy dampness—your Stainless Bar- 
rel will not be harmed. 


Nor is that all—Stainless Steel is so 
tough that it stands up under the sever- 
est shooting conditions with a stamina 
unheard of in ordinary barrels—it resists 


the cutting action of hot gases and the 





Should you come in from a long day’s 
hunt, or from hours in the blind—in damp 
marshes or pouring rain—you need not 
turn first to the task of barrel cleaning be- 
fore you can think of food or rest Not at 
all Let the gun go until morning—or the 
day after that, powde r fouled as it is—the 
delay will not damage the barrel, nor will 
rust have gained the slightest foothold, for 
this barrel is made from genuine Stainless 








Steel always easier to clean and is 
proof against the dampest weather or brint- 
¢ air 


to be a Winchester ‘Triumph 


abrasive wear and tear to a degree here 


tofore undreamed of. 


It’s the Barrel sportsmen have for years 
hoped, almost prayed, would come—and 
now it’s here. Truly, the Stainless Steel 
Barrel is a Winchester triumph that pro 
vides new safety, new accuracy and new 


enjoyment for every true sportsman. 


You'll be glad to know you can buy the 
Winchester Stainless Barrels separately 
to fit any Winchester Rifle or Shotgun or 
you can order a complete new gun fitted 
with a Stainless barrel. Only moderately 
higher in price than ordinary barrels, 
yet they will outlast any other barrel 
and retain the accuracy longer than 


others. 


Send for full information or let your 


dealer tell you all about it. 


WINCHESTER REPEATING ARMS CO., NEW HAVEN, CONN., U.S. A. 


i. . 
po 
‘ro } 
ax | 
~ / \ 
| ' 
\ / ) / yy 
: Mi ) 1 
Lark 4 
ei f / 
MS 2 
) ta “== a 
Ps lf ; 
A ( y 
¢ tig. 
‘ 
\ \ 
\y _/\ 
VN & ' / 
Or ‘ S| 
+ —\, SS s 
y "IN\Y 1 
%, \ | _ 
\ vy \s y j en 


\ 





oa WINCHESTER 


| STAIN 1S TRADE MARK 


A THE METAL OF E J 
POSSIBILITI 


GUN BARRELS 


Genuine Stainless Steel is manufactured only under the patents of the 
AMERICAN STAINLESS STEEL COMPANY COMMONWEALTH BUILDING «+ PITTSBURGH, PENNA 





Y | 
OOLNO 


Smoortnu, rich texture f 
> +. 
and delicious flavor in 4 






cooling drinks that are | , 

at the same time whole- | alee! 5 
some food —this is an , 
ideal combination for — Fo SA 
your comfort and health ram J 
and happiness in the - 


hot summer days. 
Pet Milk drinks have all these qualities. Let the recipes 
on this page prove the point for you. Then send for our 
booklets on summer drinks and summer dishes. They 
will show you the way to new delights in summer food 
and refreshments. 


7 BLAC K Cow — Pour Pet Milk over 


» | 
one cracked ice in glass until glass is *4 full 
ve | Fill to top with Sarsaparilla Soda and 


stir thoroughly 


ICED CHOCOLATE 


2 squares bitter 2 cups boiling water 








chocolate 2 cups Pet Milk Sy i] 
Yq cup sugar Few grains salt \ 
Melt chocolate in pan over hot water H add % ’ { 
sugar, salt and gradually one cup of boiling Ke ! h 
water. Stir until smooth then place par Re Hi 
directly over fire and boil one minute. Add . b © 
Pet Milk and remaining boiling water 
en ORANGE MILK SHAKI 
if ; PET EQuAL parts of strained orange 
T a juice, Pet Milk, and water 
\ y . 
ES a Press Sugar to taste 
/ Mix the fruit juice, sugar, Pet 
EAT 
4) k ; Milk, and water Add cracked ice 
STAKE Shake. (A Mason Jar will serve 


re MILK Gc OM FAH YF 
(Originators of Evaporated Milk) 
836 Arcade Building, Saint Louis, Miss 





- } 
(o4/447% 


‘9 chvenrbee 
5 





ee 
~ — J 
ETewep ——— grer* 


Min —" 


tr 
Weicunrs ere” 





How 35,000 Bakers have now 
removed guesswork from bak 


Section of interior of famous Dunwoody 
Institute. Bakers send employees here 
to study the latest scientific baking 
methods. 433 students graduated 1924.5 
Total graduates, 1733. 








Why Not Now ? 


The amazing progress of bakers 

that has led 10 million women to 

change their baking habits— 
almost overnight 


So many women have said, “I don’t want 
to do my own baking each week. It’s a time- 
consuming task. But I insist on breads and 
pastries that are pure, wholesome and sat- 
isfying.’’ 

Several years ago bakers realized this truth. 
They knew that the only way to succeed was 
to give you exactly what you wanted. So they 
called upon the scientific worid to help them. 
The response was amazingly prompt. 





Today— back of each bakery product you 
buy stand the brains and skill of more than 
250,000 men and women: chemists and 
dietitians of our large universities — home 
economics teachers—the millers of the 
flour. The bakers themselves have their own 
schools and laboratories. 


Thus 35,000 bakers now use only the pur- 
est and best ingredients —the same you use 
at home. Thus they have cast aside old- 
fashioned “‘hit or miss’? methods. They have 
eliminated ‘‘guesswork’’ from their baking. 
Today you can honestly call all bakers’ prod- 
ucts true Health products. 








* * * * ) } ‘ : 
+} More than 15,000 bakers in the United | Bake-shops every hour in the day. In 

? . y States and 10,000 in foreign countri this way each batcl ves Its uniforn 
It is this amazing progress that has turned Seige Cg” Senta a eee eee ee 
: ; : ate f | use Gold Medal Flour. Because it _ ity and stability before it leaves the mill 
baking day into a holiday for 10 million " “acts’’ the same perfect way in all Bakers who use Gold Medal Flour ar 


American women. It means pure, wholesome / | their baking. At least 50°% of baking — sure of serving you the same high qual- 


products — fresh daily — just around the cor- / success depends upon the way a flour ity products each day. 


ne a “acts” in the oven. But the average 
ner or delivered at the door. It means special 
flour may not always act the right way. 


breads, cakes and pastries for every meal and | Although the same chemically, a flour A Special Word to Bakers 


taste—raisin breads, coffee cakes, cinnamon often differs in baking results. 


Section of Interior of American Insti- If you are not receiving the Gold Medal 

rolls, muffins, doughnuts —these and many oe S poking. supported 4 Ameri- The one sure way a miller can tell how — Bakers’ Service, write for details or ask 

more. A real economy in planning and Ghesatery anvving behers Oren: every his flour will act, is to bake with it the Gold Medal man. This service is 

section of the country. himself first. That is why we bake from free. Many hundreds of bakers use it 
samples of each run of Geld Medal _ regularly. It is worth looking into. No 
Flour at each mill—in one of our Test obligation. Write now. 


GOLD MEDAL FLOUR 


WASHBURN CROSBY CO.: GEN. OFFICES, MINNEAPOLIS. MILLS AT MINNEAPOLIS, BUFFALO, KANSAS CITY, CHICAGO, LOUISVILLE, GREAT FALLS, KALISPELL 


Oven-tested 


getting meals.